#and like i couldn’t believe ti happened afterwards too i didn’t post it anywhere

[babyboibucky]

Don’t You Worry (Your Pretty Little Head)

Pairing: Guitarist!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: THE LENGTH lmfao, soft smut??? Nothing vulgar and it’s sorta implied

A/N: I am honestly nervous about posting this piece because idk, aside from it being fucking long, I was never satisfied with how this was written lmfao. I literally rewrote this like idk 5 times??? And the fact that I made a mood board for a oneshot lmfao only means I poured my heart out into this shit and I’m really hoping y’all would enjoy this as much as my other works 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your idea of a fun Friday night involved your couch and Netflix playing in the background as you scrolled through your phone with a glass of wine in hand. This was your definition of pure bliss, something that Wanda violently opposed to.

So here you were, seated in the front of a music bar while Wanda’s favorite band played.

“See? This isn’t so bad, right? Better than wallowing in your apartment alone.” She teased as she leaned over to you, needing to amp up the volume of her voice so you can hear her.

“The fact that we can’t even hear each other properly makes wallowing alone sound so much better.” You told her, not even bothering to repeat yourself when she didn’t understand what you said over the loud music playing.

Her favorite band introduced their last song for the night and as they did, you checked your phone for the time. It was barely past ten in the evening and you were already dying to get home. You’ll bid goodbye after this, you promised yourself. Just one last song and you’re out. Before the band could even finish their last song, you’d already decided on what pizza to order and which wine to bring out.

That was until the next band came up on stage to prepare for their performance. You were leaning over Wanda already, about to tell her that you were heading home, when one particular guy caught your eye. Something that Wanda noticed when she saw you gawking at the stage.

“Oh my god. He’s definitely your type.” Wanda said when her eyes landed on the bassist.

He had dirty blonde hair and a clean-shaven face that looked a little too innocent for someone to be in a rock band. Your exact type— one with the boy next door appeal, someone you’d want to bring home to introduce to your parents. Wanda was so sure you were crushing on the bassist but as soon as he followed your line of sight, she almost choked on her own spit.

You weren’t eyeing the bassist, instead, you were completely focused on the lead guitarist. You were so enamored by this guy that you failed to notice Wanda gushing over the fact that you were enamored by someone who was the complete opposite of your type.

It was the lead guitarist who caught your attention. The one with long hair tied into a low, messy man bun, his stray locks framing his perfectly chiseled face. It wasn’t only the hair that made you look at him, it was also his left arm— it was covered entirely with tattoos. And then he started playing the guitar and good god, his fingers were something else.

It was rare for you to have certain thoughts, the kind that would make you sweat in church. And thank fuck for Wanda finally snapping you out of your filthy trance because if she hadn’t, you would’ve seriously drowned in your not so pure thoughts.

“I can’t believe you’re attracted to that guy. This makes me so excited, honestly.” Wanda squealed.

“Huh?” You played dumb of course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wanda snorted out loud, “I just witnessed you drool over the guitarist for a good five minutes. Stop denying.” She said.

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I did. And so what? It’s not like I’m gonna act on it.”

“You have to fuck him.” Wanda casually suggested, making you choke on your drink.

You weren’t a prude but you didn’t like the idea of hooking up with people, most especially strangers. You weren’t going to lie though, it did cross your mind. Obviously, the way his fingers moved on his guitar really threw your brain down the gutter. Sure, you might have wondered what it’d be like to have those fingers on you but again, would you act on it? Hell no.

“It’s just one night. Live a little, come on. And you getting attracted to someone like him? That’s once in a blue moon, all the more you need to bring him home.” Wanda said.

“One night stands don’t really work well for me and you know that. The first time I tried that was also the last time because I ended up getting attached. And how did that end? Terrible. So no, thank you. Never again.” You told Wanda.

Fortunately, Wanda stopped bugging you about fucking the guitarist. It wasn’t really a big deal, it was nothing but a moment of admiration. You were hell-bent on going home anyway, well, maybe after his band finishes their first song. Besides, he wouldn’t notice you so why bother staying?

“Oh my god, he’s looking at you!” Wanda almost screamed, slapping at your arm until you turned to the stage.

And holy fuck. He was really looking at you. Why though? You even looked behind you to make sure it was you he was staring at and when you turned back at him, he smirked and threw a wink at your way.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna head home.” You said, not knowing how to act.

Wanda pulled you back down when you stood up, “Oh no, honey. No one’s going home this early.” She said. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?” She quickly added, tipping her head towards the stage.

When you looked up at the guitarist, he was still looking at you as he played. This time, he was actually pouting, as if pleading for you to stay. You quickly avoided his gaze and although it was dimly lit in the bar, you still bowed your head to hide the blush creeping up to your face.

You managed to survive the entire setlist of the band despite the flirty smiles and winks that the guitarist gave you. Wanda was ecstatic about it, it made you wonder if she was actually the one crushing on the guy. As soon as the last song was done, you excused yourself and hurried into the bathroom to compose yourself.

It was the first time that you experienced such attraction towards a guy like him. You always went with the good boys, so why were you so drawn to this guy who looked nothing but trouble? You were in denial, this was totally out of your comfort zone so you shook the thoughts away and promised yourself (again) that you’d head home this time. For real.

“There you are.”

You gasped out loud when you stepped out of the bathroom, quickly colliding against a solid chest when you heard his voice. It was low yet gentle, soft-spoken but sinful.

“I’m sorry?” You sputtered out, bowing down your head to avoid the lead guitarist’s gaze.

“I thought you left already.” He said. “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He introduced, extending his left arm for a handshake.

Your eyes landed on his tattooed arm, despite the ink covering it all up you could actually see his veins.

“And I’m going home.” You quickly shook Bucky’s hand, ignoring the electricity that ran through your veins and brushed past him, eyes scanning the bar for Wanda.

Bucky jogged ahead of you, blocking your way and chuckling to himself. “Don’t I at least get a name?” He asked.

You were internally screaming, but you managed to mention your name just so he would leave you alone. Sure, he was hot and he was actually flirting with you. But your fear of the unknown outweighed your attraction. You weren’t ready to step out of your comfort zone. Yet.

Bucky trailed behind you as you looked for Wanda, cursing to yourself when you couldn’t spot her anywhere. You took out your phone and called her immediately.

“Wanda? Where are you?” You hiss into the phone.

Bucky watched you with amusement and it was making you uncomfortable. He was just staring at you with a grin on his handsome face. And now, you just discovered that Wanda left you.

“What?! But why?! You’re my ride home! Come back and pick me up!” You exclaim into the phone, unable to believe that Wanda just ditched you.

“You can’t— hello? Wanda? Hello?” You groaned in frustration when your friend ended the call.

“I’d love to offer you a ride home but it’s too early, so how ‘bout I just buy you a drink?” Bucky asked, flashing you a charming smile that made your knees weak.

Part of you wanted to give in and just say, fuck it, let Bucky do whatever he wants with you. The reasonable part of your brain though, highly opposed to this and pulled on the alarms. This guy probably just wants to get you into his bed and although it doesn’t sound that bad, you worried more for what could happen afterwards. You weren’t ready for a repeat of the past. You were too emotional, you had too many strings and they get attached way too quickly.

“No, thank you.” You told Bucky and headed outside the bar, deciding to book an Uber instead.

Bucky was persevering though and followed you out, blocking your way into the sidewalk and snatching your phone away.

“Hey, give me my phone back!” You exclaimed.

“The night is young, c’mon. Why are you so aloof anyway?” Bucky asked.

“Because I don’t know you?” You responded.

Bucky chuckled, “Have you ever heard about making friends? I mean, pretty much everyone you meet starts off as a stranger. And it’s not like I’m a serial killer or anything. I’m not gonna rob you but I most certainly won’t give you your phone back until I convince you to stay a while.” He said and god, he was too charming for your own good.

He made a good point about making friends. You couldn’t even remember the last time you made a new one. Bucky could see the gears in your head working as you stared at him, cheeks flushed and lips parted in deep thought.

“So, what do you say? Stay a while? Keep me company. It’ll be fun.” Bucky insisted.

“Why me?” You blurted out.

It wasn’t that you were insecure, but you were way too different from Bucky. You didn’t seem like his type, but then again, he wasn’t your type either. Until the moment you saw him on stage.

“Why not?” Bucky responded as if he couldn’t believe you just asked him that question.

“Do you ask that every time someone flirts with you? Besides, it’s not everyday that someone like you stared at me like that.” He teased.

Fuck, so he noticed you drooling over him. Quick! Think of a way out, you told yourself.

“Someone like me? What did you mean by that?” You asked, sounding offended.

Bucky’s eyes widened and shook his head, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s a bad thing. I mean, you come in here wearing a chiffon blouse and a pencil skirt and expect me not to notice? I’m actually flattered that a girl, no...a woman...was ogling me. Definitely piqued my interest.” He explained.

That was a compliment, right? The sirens in your head grew louder at the way Bucky was easily throwing you compliments. He must be used to flirting his way into women’s panties, huh? 

“I wasn’t ogling you.” You defended even though you were, looking away from his eyes.

“Sure, you weren’t.” Bucky teased. “Loosen up, will ya? When was the last time you had fun anyway?” He asked.

“Depends on your definition of fun.” You retorted.

“You know what I mean.” Bucky sighed.

“Well, my idea of fun doesn’t involve a guitarist getting me into his bed for a one night stand.” You blurted out, mindlessly.

Bucky made a face and clutched his chest, “Ouch. You went hard on that judgment, I’m not gonna lie, that kinda stings.”

Okay, now you felt bad for jumping to conclusions. Bucky did look like he was hurt from your brash statement. Fuck, he probably thought you were one of those stereotypical bitches! It wasn’t entirely your fault, right? You were just being careful. Were you? Or was it purely overthinking? Your brain was moving all too fast but Bucky quickly distracted you when he took your hand and placed your phone back onto your palm.

“You know, I think I get it why you said that and I honestly can’t blame you. A band dude flirts with you just like that, understandable why you thought that I wanted to get into your pants.” He explained much to your relief.

“I’m sorry, it was tasteless for me to judge you like that.” You quickly apologized, genuinely feeling like a terrible person.

Bucky smiled at you, “Nah, you had every right. I’m sorry if I was too forward but I do really want to spend some time to get to know you. So how about a little proposal?”

There was a glint in Bucky’s eyes that made your heart flutter and your brain go into overdrive. You knew it was a bad idea to give in to Bucky. Someone as charming as him might really be up to no good. Sure, you felt bad for judging him based on his looks. But something in your gut tells you that he was trouble.

“What proposal?” You asked curiously.

“Spend the next twelve hours with me.” Bucky suggested.

You frowned, “What?”

Bucky took your phone again, but only to check the time. “It’s a little past eleven now, I promise you’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Come with me, let loose for once and let’s spend the entire night together. Twelve hours, that’s it.” He said excitedly.

“And I don’t mean have sex with me.” Bucky explained immediately.  “We’ll just hang out, it’s a wholesome proposal. But if you do want to have sex with me, I’m not gonna turn that down. I’m just saying, it’s not my motive but I won’t be saying no to it either.” He reassured.

You felt hot all of a sudden at how Bucky casually talked about having sex with you. It made you feel feverish and for someone who wasn’t really a sexual person, it made you feel like you were about to commit a major sin just by listening to Bucky talk like that.

Bucky beamed at you cutely, waiting for your response and honestly, with how his doe eyes were looking at you like that, was it even possible to say no? Despite the continuous alarms in your head and your inner prude begging you to stay within the confines of your comfort zone, you decided to do something for a change.

So you said yes.

You were spending the next twelve hours with Bucky and you could only hope that you wouldn’t regret it.

-

The night started off slow, thankfully, with Bucky ushering you back into the bar for a couple of drinks. You had to remind yourself to still be alert for any red flags that might show up sooner or later. You knew you were being a bit paranoid, but to hell, it would be better that way than to make mistakes tonight.

“Where do you work?” Bucky asked before calling the waiter.

“I work at a bank.” You told him.

The waiter arrived and took your orders, a tall glass of mojito for you and a rum and coke for Bucky. He asked you a couple more things, where you graduated, your hobbies and what you often did during your weekends. All of which you had pretty boring responses to. Bucky listened though and he didn’t seem bored too, what a relief.

“Are you really sure about spending twelve hours just like this?” You asked, taking another sip from your second glass of mojito.

Bucky snickered, “We won’t be talking the entire night, did you really think I’d ask for your twelve hours just to talk?” He asked.

“What are you planning then?” You asked nervously.

Bucky offered you an amused smile, “Nothing illegal so stop worrying, pretty lady. I can see the gears in your head turning.” He said and leaned forward to smoothen out the crease in between your brows with his thumb.

“Come on, time to have fun.” He said and got up, offering you his hand.

You haven’t even recovered from how gentle Bucky was when he touched your forehead. And now here he was, standing over you with his tattooed arm extended, waiting for you to take his hand.

“I don’t bite.” He stated.

Letting out a sigh, you finished up your drink and stood up, slipping your hand into Bucky’s. He smiled at you, lifting your hand up to his face and pressing a kiss on it before winking.

“See? I told you, I don’t bite.”

You cleared your throat and pursed your lips, biting back a smile as Bucky tugged you as he walked out of the bar, keeping your hand in his the entire time. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all?

“Here.” Bucky said, handing you over his helmet.

It was then that you realized that he was about to give you a ride. On his motorcycle. The sirens in your head went off once again, bringing you back to your usual tensed state.

“Oh, no. Look, I know I said yes to your proposal but I’m not going to ride on that.” You disagreed and took a step back.

Bucky looked disappointed but shrugged anyway, placing the helmet back on the bike. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time, just because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Come with me.” He said and took your hand in his again as the both of you went back inside the bar.

He brought you towards the booth where the rest of his band were staying at. They all looked at you with smirks on their faces when Bucky introduced you to them.

“That’s Nat, our vocalist. Sam here is our drummer and Steve the bassist.” He said.

You gave them a polite smile and a quick wave. Bucky threw his keys over at Steve, who was supposed to be your type. Wanda thought so and you were just weirded out that you happen to be drawn towards Bucky instead.

“Hey punk, switch your car for my bike? Just for tonight.” Bucky said.

Steve looked so done with his request but shook his head in defeat as he fished his keys out of his pocket. He pointed at Bucky threateningly, “Don’t mess up my car, jerk. You know what I mean by that.” He said before throwing his own keys over at Bucky who caught it with ease.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Thanks, pal!” Bucky bid goodbyes and pulled you again before you could even say your own goodbyes to his bandmates.

Now, you were inside Steve’s car with Bucky and you were nervous as fuck. Although you did find it considerate of Bucky to borrow his friend’s car to make things comfortable for you. You were going to admit that, but it made your heart flutter. You mentally snorted at yourself because fuck, the bar is set pretty low alright.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, noticing how you tensed up all of a sudden.

“Do we have rules?” You asked.

“This night is all about letting loose and the first thing you thought of are rules?” Bucky laughed.

“I’m about to spend the next twelve hours with a complete stranger, of course I’d be worried! What if—“

“Okay, calm down!” Bucky said, turning in his seat to face you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“If it’ll make you less tense then fine, I’ll come up with rules. Number one is to stop worrying.” Bucky said, rubbing your arms up and down and you were supposed to feel uncomfortable with the intimacy but you didn’t.

There was no malice to it and it made you panic all the more because ugh, Bucky was making you all soft and vulnerable around him. You could hear Wanda inside your head, commanding you to just calm down and go with the flow. You took in a deep breath and composed yourself.

“You gotta learn to trust people. I promise you, we won’t be getting in any trouble. I’ll take good care of you.” Bucky said, letting your arms go and tipping your chin so you’d look at him.

“Rule two, no what ifs. Just focus on the present, okay? If you keep worrying about what could happen, you’ll miss out on the now. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.” Something about the change in Bucky’s eyes when he said that made you curious.

He was on to something, like he really meant it. You wanted to ask him about it, hell, you should start asking him for more information. If he wanted to get to know you better then you should attempt to do the same to him too.

“Last rule is to just enjoy. Like I said, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You trust me now?” Bucky asked with hopeful eyes.

The alarms in your head still kept going, but as you gazed back at Bucky, the softer they were becoming. You could feel yourself start to give in and you know what? It actually doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe this would help with your attachment issues? This will probably teach you how to have fun with no attachments. Take things for what they are and just enjoy.

“Hey, will you trust me?” Bucky asked again.

“Yeah, yeah I will.”

-

1:15AM

Bucky took you to a hole in the wall open mic bar. It was a small place and everyone there seemed to know each other. And when Bucky arrived, everyone just greeted him and welcomed you there.

“You seem pretty popular here.” You told him as he led you to one of the seats near the makeshift stage.

“I spend a lot of time here.” He said and called over the guy by the bar.

“Hey Happy! Wanna introduce you to a special friend.” He said. The man approached your table and greeted you with a smile.

“Must be really special, you never bring anyone here.” Happy said, making you blush uncontrollably.

Bucky bit his lip as he turned to you, “Do you sing?” He asked.

You quickly shook your head, “Oh god, no. I don’t have the talent.” You said.

Happy chuckled, “That wouldn’t be a problem, trust me.” He reassured.

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at you, “Wanna go up there and sing with me?”

“Bucky, no.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Come on, no one’s gonna judge you. Let loose, remember? And if anyone here laughs at you, I’ll be the first to punch them in the face.” He promised.

You thought for a while, keeping your eyes on Bucky. Fuck this. You called Happy and requested for a shot of tequila.

“That’s my girl! Just needs a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”

You snorted, “Oh that’s not for me. That’s for you. You’re gonna need it if you’ll be hearing me sing.”

You never performed in front of a crowd, well, back in high school maybe for some school plays. But hell, you were never the center of attention and whenever you had to be, you always experienced a panic attack. But now being on stage with Bucky behind you, playing the guitar as you sang (screeched actually), you’d never felt more alive and relaxed. True enough, no one cared about how off tune you were. In fact, you got a lot of cheers from the crowd.

2:45AM

“You hungry?” Bucky asked.

You couldn’t believe it, you’ve been singing on stage the entire time at the bar. You’d like to believe that it was probably the alcohol running in your veins, but you weren’t that drunk. Tipsy, maybe but definitely not drunk. It was fun, you were surprised at how much you enjoyed singing with Bucky and everybody else. You made a couple of new friends aside from Happy, talked to them and even exchanged numbers with a few. This was the most sociable you’ve ever been.

“I could use some carbs right now.” You laughed, wiping off the sweat on your forehead.

Bucky reached out to fix your hair, moving away the sweaty strands sticking onto your cheeks and tucking them behind your ear. He flashed you that oh so charming smile again and good god, Bucky was truly something else.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” He said.

Bucky drove to a 24-hour food truck somewhere. It was close to 3am but you didn’t feel exhausted, which was shocking given that you’ve been dying to go home a few hours ago before meeting Bucky and agreeing to go on an escapade with him. You could already hear Wanda squealing over the phone once you tell her everything.

The both of you ordered some soft tacos and sat on one of the benches beside the food truck.

“Enjoying so far?” Bucky asked with interest.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth full of food as you devoured your tacos. “Very much.” You admitted.

Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he laughed along with you, obviously pleased that you were enjoying yourself. Not long ago, twelve hours seemed a bit too long. Now, they felt too short. You could feel your brain begin to overthink what would happen once the the twelve hours are over, but you quickly shook them away and followed Bucky’s advice to focus on the present.

The two of you continued to talk as you ate. You discovered that Bucky and his bandmates go way back and that they’ve been performing since their days at the university. You also found out that Bucky’s last relationship ended six years ago and that he hasn’t dated anyone since then. You found out a lot of things about Bucky, most of which were far from your first impressions.

“Why’d your friend leave you at the bar?” Bucky asked, taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

You watched him with hazy eyes as he lighted the cigarette, puffing out a thin line of smoke with ease. You were always drawn to Bucky’s fingers and initially, it was because of the impure thoughts they made you think about. But more than that, they were the gentlest you’d ever seen.

“Probably to get me to have fun.” You responded, looking away timidly when Bucky noticed you staring at his hands.

“She’s gonna be very proud of you after this.” He said.

You nodded and breathed out a chuckle, “Oh, for sure.” You said before turning to Bucky. “Can I try?” You asked, motioning towards his cigarette.

“I haven’t smoked. Ever.” You admitted.

Bucky grinned and passed you the cigarette. “Go on.” He urged and kept his eyes on you as you brought the cigarette up to your lips.

The way Bucky watched you was intimidating in the sense that it felt intimate. It wasn’t like he was eye-fucking you or anything, his eyes were just too...expressive? They held a certain softness to them, a bit of sadness too when you look at it closely. They were the bluest, most beautiful color you’ve seen and they were captivating.

You ended up in a coughing fit from that first drag. Bucky chuckled and took the cigarette from your hand, patting your back as you continued to cough.

“Definitely not for me.” You frowned and took a sip from your iced tea.

“At least you tried. I’m proud of you.” Bucky said, the gentle pats on your back slowing down until his hand remained still.

“You good?” He asked again, sliding his hand lower until he reached the small of your back, but not low enough to make you uncomfortable.

You nodded, “What else is up in your sleeve?” You asked with interest.

“Well, I really wanted to take you on a ride on my bike but I guess that’s for next time.” Bucky confessed.

“Next time?” You asked and you tried not to be hopeful.

“Yeah, next time. We’ll do that next time.” Bucky said and he sounded so sure that you began to worry.

Will there really be a next time? At this point, Bucky could read you like an open book because he chuckled and pressed his thumb against the crease on your forehead again.

“You’re doing it again, whatever you’re worrying about just forget it for now.” He said, soothing out your crease before pinching your nose.

You scrunched your nose making Bucky lightly laugh. He checked the time on his phone and let out a sigh.

3:43AM

“Can I bring you back to my place?”

-

If you told Wanda that you ended up in Bucky’s place, she would freak out and ask for all the details. But no, you didn’t come home with Bucky for that reason. As he promised, it wasn’t his motive to get you into his bed and he seemed to be genuine about it.

Bucky lived in a small studio-type loft. It wasn’t the penthouse kind with the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. It was simple and minimalistic, with just a few pieces of furniture. What Bucky owned were a couple of guitars— different kinds of them, and an electric keyboard.

“It’s not much and I don’t even have a bed frame, I hope you won’t judge me for that.” Bucky said, scratching his neck as he led you inside.

“No, not at all. It’s very cozy in here, actually.” You said, looking around and taking in your surroundings.

Bucky had a lot of indoor plants, you definitely didn’t think of him as a plant guy. As you let your eyes wander, something white zoomed past your vision. A cat.

Bucky also owned a cat.

“This is Alpine.” Bucky said, picking up the feline and carrying it onto his shoulder.

As if Bucky and his plants didn’t make him attractive enough, he really had to own a white cat. You could feel yourself internally screaming about how you haven’t been seeing any red flags. If any, you’ve been seeing green flags pop out every now and then that it was pretty alarming. Strangely, the sirens in your head died down as if they’ve given up on warning you.

Or maybe, there was really nothing to warn about Bucky.

The cat purred and nuzzled its nose into Bucky’s neck and you couldn’t believe that you got jealous for a brief second. Oh, to be cat against Bucky’s chest.

“Feel free to look around, I’ll get you water.” He said, bringing Alpine with him into the kitchen.

You walked around his place and observed the surroundings. He was very organized, more than you actually. You could hear Bucky talk to Alpine and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

A couple of picture frames that sat on Bucky’s bedside table caught your eye. They were photos of him with his mom you assumed, and three more girls.

“Those are my mom and younger sisters.” Bucky said, appearing behind you with a glass of water.

You thanked him as you took the glass and sat down on his bed, “Where are they?” You asked before drinking.

Alpine jumped into your lap and purred, making Bucky laugh with delight as he sat next to you. His parents were back in his hometown together with his sisters. Bucky told you everything about his family and how close he was to his sisters, how they were supportive of him when he decided to become a musician. Then Bucky went on to showcase his guitar collection, telling you the lovely stories behind each of them. You could see how passionate Bucky was for his craft and it was a wonderful thing to witness. You were envious how Bucky pursued his passion, how he took huge risks to get to where he was now.

“And this is my favorite one.” Bucky said, taking a black electric guitar with him as he went back to sit down next to you.

“First one I bought with my own money. It’s old and doesn’t sound as nice as my newer ones, but I love it.” He said and started plucking at the strings.

Alpine hopped off from your lap and went to sleep onto his tiny little bed beside Bucky’s couch. You focused on Bucky’s fingers as he played the guitar. It took you back to the moment you saw him onstage, how those fingers made you wonder about certain things. They moved gracefully against the cords, plucking with ease producing the most wonderful music. You really needed to snap out of your filthy thoughts.

Bucky played the guitar for you, singing some lyrics once in a while. You noticed his tattoos again and stared a bit longer, trying to decipher each design wrapped around his arm. Some were huge, some intricate more than the rest. They were all of different designs but molded together so perfectly.

You had to admit, you didn’t find tattoos attractive before. But on Bucky, it looked like a masterpiece. He himself, was a piece of art with his chiseled jawline and steel blue eyes that made you feel at home.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” you softly trailed.

Bucky hummed in response, his attention focused on his guitar as he continued to play.

“Your tattoos, do they mean something?” You asked.

“I got them to cover up the scars from an accident.” Bucky looked up at you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” You quickly apologized.

Bucky smiled reassuringly, “It’s fine. It was a turning point for me.” He said, setting his guitar aside.

“It really puts things into perspective you know. I crashed my bike one night, I wasn’t drunk, mind you.” He chuckled. “It was pretty bad, my left arm suffered the most. I almost got decapitated but here I am. I got scars all over, really ugly scars so I had them covered up with a tattoo sleeve.” Bucky explained, extending his left arm and looking at it.

“For a while, I wasn’t able to play music. And I hated every second of it. Hated seeing the scars on my arm and how they reminded me of the accident. But you learn to live with it. At least I did, I learned to turn the negative into something positive.”

Now that he said that, you could actually see some of the scars beneath the ink. Bucky shrugged and continued with his story.

“The doctors said I was lucky that I didn’t die. Living my second life now, I realized that I gotta make the most out of it. Focus on the present and enjoy what comes your way. Take risks. Do what scares you.” He explained and now you understood.

You understood why Bucky appeared to be so laid-back and carefree, why he doesn’t worry a lot about the future. He almost lost his life so now he was living it to the fullest. He was living in the present, enjoying every second of it.

“Every time I see my tattoos, I get reminded of my second chance at life and how I shouldn’t waste it.” He said.

Bucky saw the look in your face, how guilty you looked from judging him right away. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tipping it up to make you look at him.

“So when I noticed that bored pretty office girl in the audience checking me out, I didn’t waste the opportunity to get to know her. See where it goes, who knows if I’d still be alive tomorrow but at least I shoot my shot.” He said, making you chuckle.

Everything went still in that moment, your usually noisy mind included. Time seemed to have stopped as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes. Biting your lip, you gave in and totally let down your walls.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, doing the same thing with his thumb, soothing the crease in between your brows.

This time, he didn’t take his hand back and allowed it to rest against your cheek before sliding down to your jaw and neck. His thumb began to caress the spot beneath your ear, waiting for you to respond to his question.

What Bucky got was more than just a simple response.

“Fuck it.” You whispered before pressing your lips onto Bucky’s.

All your life you played it safe— from your college course to your choice of career. You weren’t one to take risks either and whenever you needed to, they were always calculated. You did things carefully, making sure that you’d get the results you were expecting to save you from disappointment. The unknown scared you and so does uncertainty. You liked staying in your comfort zone but as much as you’ve been denying it, it was starting to get boring.

You also said you weren’t one to entertain a stranger, let alone hook-up with one. But then Bucky comes along with his long hair and tattooed arm, looking like trouble but bringing you none. You’d think that he just wanted to get into your pants but as he showered you with gentle kisses and feathery touches, you realized that Bucky might be different and that he was so much more than just the hot lead guitarist of a band.

Bucky’s calloused fingers perfectly contrasted the smooth expanse of your skin. They felt rough but remained gentle as they moved along your chest, as they danced along your back, as they stroked your inner walls. And his lips, they were tender and soft; they whispered nothing but promises and praises against your ear as your bodies moved in unison.

His eyes remained on you, taking all of your nakedness in, literally and figuratively. He watched you closely, with those blue eyes of his that always made you blush. Bucky’s eyes were truly mesmerizing, no matter how much you wanted to look away from embarrassment, you couldn’t. You felt trapped in those eyes, and you never want to leave.

And his left arm— you could feel the ridges of his scars as you let your hands feel his skin. But they weren’t ugly, didn’t feel weird against the pads of your fingers. His arm offered nothing but warmth and support when you reached your high and came crashing down. His arms caught you and protected you, his embrace was reassuring and it made you feel safe.

5:58AM

The city was quiet and the sun was barely up. Alpine was still curled up on his bed, sleeping. You were exhausted but satisfied and comfortable as you laid on your stomach, head turned and facing Bucky as you listened to him talk.

He was talking about his band’s first performance in college, laughing when he said that he almost threw up from being so nervous. Bucky had the softest voice in the wee hours of dawn, you loved listening to him. Lucky you, Bucky had been talking about anything and everything until the dark skies began to change its hues. He shared his dreams and his secrets and you admired him more and more.

“You should come to our rehearsals.” He suggested, letting a hand trace patterns on your bare back.

“Sounds nice.” You yawned, blinking your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

“What do you want for brunch?” Bucky asked, almost mumbling from being half-asleep.

You hummed, “By the time we wake up, it might be close to dinner.” You joked.

“Breakfast food is way better during dinner. Want me to cook for you?” Bucky said before yawning.

Your eyes were lidded as you took in Bucky’s form. He was laying beside you, long hair messed up and lips swollen pink from kissing. He looked unreal as a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through his curtains, embracing his body with its warm glow. The sun was now fully up, witnessing the tender aftermath of your intimacy with Bucky as he reached out to brush his knuckle along your cheekbone.

“I’m surprised you can cook.” You said softly, close to falling asleep.

“I’m pretty good at it.” Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll cook for you when we wake up.” 

Bucky’s soft lips against yours was the last thing you felt before sleep took over.

-

12:24PM

A soft purr paired with soft paws on his face stirred Bucky awake. He groaned at Alpine when she meowed right into his face. Must be feeding time, he thought.

Bucky gently moved Alpine aside and turned, only to be met by a cold, empty space beside him. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes before quickly scanning his apartment for you.

You were gone.

And judging by the cold sheets on your side of the bed, you’d left hours ago. Bucky sighed in disappointment as he got up, putting on his boxers and quickly checking the bathroom. He hoped you’d be there, but you weren’t.

You didn’t even leave a note.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to cook for you, really. He wanted to bring you to his band’s rehearsals, maybe even write a song for you.

He wanted more than twelve hours with you.

-

Wanda had been on your ass for days now. When you told her about your twelve hours with Bucky, she was happy and proud. By the time you got to the end of it, she was fuming and was close to actually physically hurting you.

She wouldn’t stop bugging you about it, demanding you to at least look Bucky up on Facebook or Instagram. Wanda believed that what you and Bucky shared that night was special, something real and not just a one-time thing.

You woke up that morning, feeling sore but happy. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you opened your eyes to the sight of Bucky sleeping peacefully beside you. He seemed to be dreaming, his brows creased and lips pursed.

Reaching out, you did what Bucky kept on doing to you whenever you were worrying. You pressed your thumb against his forehead, soothing out the crease as gentle as you could so as not to wake him up. Bucky stirred in his sleep and unconsciously took your hand in his, pressing a kiss onto your palm before falling back into his slumber.

And that’s when it started; the alarms in your head went off and they were the loudest they’ve ever been. You were almost deafened by it, your logic drowning beneath your panicked thoughts as you got up from bed. You dressed up in a hurry, grabbing your things and phone to book yourself a ride home. Alpine woke up and ran over to your legs, purring as if begging you not to go.

You refused to look back and went straight for the door.

One and a half week later, here you were still feeling like the most terrible person on the entire planet. You had searched for Bucky online, of course. You just didn’t tell Wanda that but it was the first thing that you did upon going home. There were instances when you were tempted to send him a DM, or add him up on Facebook but you never did. 

That one night with Bucky changed everything, it changed you. You immediately filed for a resignation, realizing that you were no longer happy working for the bank. It was a spur of the moment decision but you knew it was the right one. You didn’t even know where to apply next or what career to pursue. But you weren’t worried like you had expected to be.

Bucky taught you to take risks, to not fear the unknown because things will eventually fall into place. You felt good though, that you were slowly learning to step out of your comfort zone. But something was amiss and you knew what it was. Or who it was.

You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.

-

It was around nine in the evening when you went to the grocery store for a last minute shopping decision. Wanda was coming over for a movie night and apparently, you didn’t have any snacks left.

Finishing your list, you turned at the corner of an aisle and collided with somebody. Your apology died on your tongue when you looked up to see a familiar face.

Steve.

“Hi.” You softly greeted, wondering if he would even remember you.

He frowned at you and you were surprised that he remembered you and actually knew about that night.

“Why’d you leave Bucky just like that?” He asked right away.

You swallowed and avoided his gaze, “It was...it’s not a big deal. It was a one-time thing anyway.” You lied through your teeth.

Steve scoffed, “It didn’t seem like a one-time thing when Bucky came to our rehearsals the next day feeling bummed out.” He explained and sighed afterwards, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m in no position to interfere. I don’t know you and why you did that so who am I to judge? But I know Bucky. He isn’t what you think he is.” Steve said.

“I know.” You whispered.

“Then why’d you leave?” Steve asked again but didn’t wait for a response.

“Bucky may come off a little too strong, he’s straightforward and passionate. He gives it his all and that night with you...he gave everything. He was really hurt when you left.”

You were unable to speak because fuck, you messed up big time. You didn’t know that Bucky was going to feel that way when you left. You got scared and ran away even when there was nothing to be afraid of. Steve must have noticed your guilt and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“We’re playing tonight at the music bar. You have the chance to make things right.” Steve said and offered you a small smile before leaving.

You stood in the grocery store while in deep thoughts. Again, your mind was all kinds of messed up and your thoughts were fighting for dominance. There were sirens going on and off and fuck, it was all driving you insane. Your heart began to race when you felt an impending sense of doom wash over you. You were panicking and you were fighting so hard to calm your nerves.

And then you remembered Bucky that night and how he was quick to silence your brain with a simple yet comforting gesture.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

A thumb on your forehead to soothe your worries. Those steel blue eyes providing you comfort, and that charming smile that never failed to reassure you.

You quickly called Wanda.

“Movie night is cancelled!”

-

The dimly lit music bar welcomed you with a sense of familiarity. It had been more than a week since your encounter with Bucky and yet it felt like it was only yesterday.

Smiling to yourself, you remembered how tensed you were when Bucky first approached you. You were so defensive, you had your walls built up high but Bucky managed to bring them down. It didn’t even take him the full twelve hours to do so.

The music bar was full with no vacant spot near the stage. The current band just finished their song and was preparing to exit. You squeezed your way to the front, ignoring the complaints of people you slightly pushed away. A familiar voice greeted the crowd a good evening before introducing their band.

Your breath hitched when you spotted Bucky onstage. His hair was down and he was sporting a little bit of scruff. You watched him play his guitar but something was different. He wasn’t as passionate as he used to be, like he wasn’t focused. He almost looked like he didn’t want to be there. And his eyes, they were empty and void of any emotion. No mischievous glint in them, no nothing.

It broke your heart seeing Bucky like this, especially that you knew you were the reason for it.

It took a while for Bucky to look up and scan the crowd and when he finally did, his eyes immediately met yours.

Just like the first time, you felt your face heat up from the eye contact. Bucky was surprised to see you, you saw how his eyes widened at the sight of you. He was quick to recover though, he looked away and focused on playing the guitar instead.

As soon as his band exited the stage, you wasted no time to approach them. Steve greeted you with a nod before calling for Nat and Sam, asking for them accompany him to the bar to give you some privacy. Bucky refused to look at you as he gathered his stuff, preparing to leave.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“I’m heading home.” Bucky curtly responded and brushed past you.

The tables have turned with you walking ahead of him to block his way.

“The night is young, stay a while and keep me company?” You used his line and Bucky was having none of it.

He scoffed and shook his head, “I’m surprised you remembered what I said. I mean, after you just disappeared I assumed you’d completely forgotten about that night.”

“I didn’t.” You told him. “Can we please talk?” You pleaded.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I really wanna go home.” He said.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, “Give me twelve minutes.” You offered.

“Just twelve minutes of your time. Please, Bucky.”

-

The two of you stepped outside the bar for some silence. Bucky walked over to his bike, leaning against it as he looked at you coldly. Those eyes used to gaze at you with warmth, but now they were blank and cold.

“Time is ticking.” He said when you kept mum.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear like that.” You said, looking down at your feet.

How else were you going to say your piece? You had practiced your speech on the way to the bar and now that Bucky was in front of you, you couldn’t even look at him from shame.

Bucky scoffed, “You asked me for twelve minutes and that’s all you’re gonna say? You’re sorry? Just that?” He bitterly chuckled, running a hand over his scruff.

“If you didn’t mean it then why did you leave? You left me without any warning. I honestly thought there was something between us. After everything that happened, how could you just walk away like that? You led me on, didn’t you?” Bucky angrily asked.

“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t but I got scared!” You admitted.

“Scared of what?” He asked. “Scared of me? Because I’m not the kind of guy you usually go for? You really couldn’t get rid of that first impression, huh?” He said and turned around.

“That’s not the reason why. Everything scared me because that night was something else. You were too good to be true, Bucky! That’s what scared me!” You told him.

Bucky turned around, his brows creased, “What?”

When you woke up that morning, everything seemed perfect. The past twelve hours you had spent with Bucky were wonderful and you loved every second of it. You enjoyed too much and the thought of it being a one-time thing really broke your heart.

You had attachment issues and you thought that giving in to Bucky would help you learn to enjoy things as they were. But it didn’t and made it even worse because you got attached, so fucking attached.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of ending those twelve hours with a permanent goodbye so I left. You suddenly talked about next time and tomorrow and it was...it was overwhelming for me. My fear got the best of me because that night was too good. You were too good.”

Bucky’s expression softened after hearing your side. Now you felt stupid for overthinking things. It was selfish on your part to assume that those twelve hours meant nothing to Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized softly. “That night meant everything to me, Bucky. I just wasn’t ready to find out whether it meant the same to you.” You confessed with a sigh.

Bucky stayed quiet after your confession. You could feel your bile rising, you wanted to throw up. Hell, you wanted to just faint and forget about everything. If Bucky wouldn’t give you a second chance, you’d understand him. You did a pretty shitty thing to him anyway.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You lifted your gaze upon hearing that line. Bucky’s eyes had their warmth back and his expression was no longer stoic. He pushed himself away from his bike and approached you, reaching out to soothe the crease on your forehead.

“It’s not everyday that I find myself in the company of a stranger who made me feel things. I’ve always been a traditional one, I take things slow and I’ve been very careful. When I felt something during those twelve hours, I was caught off guard. I never felt so strongly for someone I just met and it was all new to me and I panicked.” You confessed.

“You were out of my comfort zone and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t mean to disappear like that, Bucky.”

You were met with pure silence after your admission. When you looked up at Bucky, you couldn’t read his expression. Thinking that he wasn’t buying your explanation, you let out a bitter chuckle and shrugged.

“I guess that’s it. Twelve minutes. No more no less. I just wanted you to know that, Bucky. And I’m really, really sorry.” You said and slowly backed away, ready to leave.

“Hey.” Bucky called out, approaching you.

“If I asked you to spend the next twelve hours with me again, where would you go after?” He asked.

Was this a test? You didn’t know how to respond and Bucky seemed to have caught up on that and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Will you stay until the morning this time?” He asked. “‘Cause I was pretty disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed. I had our brunch planned out, you know?”

The mischievous glint in Bucky’s eyes was back. You bit back a smile when Bucky cradled your head into his palm, thumb circling the skin on your neck.

You timidly nodded, tilting your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a searing kiss that promised you another twelve hours together. And more.

“No more running off in the morning.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky @5-seconds-of-mendes​ 

#bbb writes #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #sebastian stan

[raisansgrapeon]

My Views on Some of the Cast of the DSMP

We got a lot of things flying left, right, and center right now about characters in the dream smp fandom and I love it. I love seeing the perspectives and the stances and everyone's opinions as long as we're all being civil about it. So, I'm civilly putting in my two cents about... Well... Everything. But mainly just Ghostbur, Phil, and Techno since this post would get obscenely long if I did everyone.

I'd like to just say one thing about my approach to this story:

The characters are morally ambiguous. No one is the good guy. No one is the bad guy. No one is an exception.

Yes, even Dream falls under this.

These are all people, and I always hesitate to call people bad or good in real life because there is so much more beyond what I can see of them, and I think it's a testament to the wonderful acting, improv, writing, and character establishment/writing that it can get me to see fictional block men who do things like claim their mother is a salmon and fill their palaces with flamingos as people.

With that information, I say that I love every character for who they are in the context of the narrative and how they play their role in said narrative.

And I love how each and every one of them are in the wrong somehow in some way.

Ghostbur is suffering the loss of everything he built, technically, a fourth time over.

First with Dream's initial explosion of L'Manburg, second with the actual explosion of L'Manburg, third with the explosion of Logstedshire, and finally with the final explosion of L'Manburg. He's hurting and yes, we all feel immensely bad for this little amnesiac ghost boy who only ever wrote books and built what he loved.

But he acknowledges that he's also hurt people. He knows that. That's why he wants to be resurrected. Even if he forgets conversations, impressions and residual feelings and ideas still hold over, since he clearly didn't just forget about his desire to be resurrected after he forgot his spat with Phil. He recontextualizes his desires and feelings under new sources but the idea of, this is the only way I can make everyone feel better, still lingers. Fundy told him that he needed to stop running away from his problems and face them. He may have forgotten that conversation, but the idea that who he is and what Ghostbur, as an entity, represents is hurting everyone, lingers.

Ghostbur has hurt people. Not of malicious intent, but intent does not dictate the feelings and actions of those around you in response to your own actions. Ghostbur uses his blue to forget his sorrows, and that action cuts those around him off from the emotional reconciliation Ghostbur knows they need from him.

Even then, who he is is not primed to deal with the fallout that would come if he even had voluntary control over his amnesia. Ghostbur insists he's not Alivebur, but he kinda is in a way. Both are very rigid in their beliefs when their mind is made up. There is no negotiation afterwards. Ghostbur's fundamental ideals have been locked in from the start of his existence. He makes others happy, and he restores L'Manburg. The idea that he no longer has the capability to do either of these things as he is now lingers without context. A ghost of a conversation forgotten that got held onto as the only good thing to come out of it.

Ghostbur is not 100% good. He's airheaded and well meaning, but he's never addressed the core issues that he caused.

Phil is trying to prevent what happened to his son from ever happening again.

Phil is a bigger picture man. He sees the world around him as a collective that works together to maintain itself. He doesn't have many personal ties beyond Techno and Wilbur in canon. He truly acts like a third-party hanging above the fray watching as the tides of war ebb and flow. He sees the corruption and sickness that lies within L'Manburg that killed his son thrive long after the mad king had been struck down. He held hope that in the wake of tragedy, Tubbo and the citizens would turn the tides, but they proved him wrong. What killed his son tried to kill his friend, and Phil was going to stop it.

But Phil was too zoomed out to see the personal aspect that L'Manburg held. He was too focused of the bigger picture to remember that Friend was in his house. He couldn't see L'Manburg as the home of many. He was still too detached from the feelings of the people to understand why Ghostbur was upset in the first place. The conversation between the two was not about Phil trying to get Ghostbur to understand why L'Manburg needed to go, it was Ghostbur trying to get Phil to understand why this was not the right option.

Philza has hurt people. He hurt his son by not only aiding in the destruction of his son's home and Friend, but also refusing to see the individuals in the conflict. He hurt Fundy by rejecting him the moment he realized that his grandson was following the tide of battle in the wrong direction. In the end, Phil never chose to see the situation from any other perspective other than his own.

He's disjointed and disconnected from the world around him. He truly loves and cares for two, at one point three, people on the server canonically and beyond that is an ambiguous blur. This isn't really his battle, in all honesty. He came when he saw that Wil was gonna do something everyone would regret, and he tried to step in and stop it, but beyond that, he was never there for anything. He never cared about L'Manburg and he never cared about its people. He's kind and caring to those in passing and he has a sense of nobility and honor where he respects and helps those who helped him. Still, he sees the world around him as a collective, and rarely anything more.

Philza is not 100% good, but he's not 100% bad. He's principled and intelligent, but he has no concept of how his actions affect the individual beyond the collective.

Techno has been abandoned and played like a fiddle this whole time.

Technoblade is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most straightforward character in the smp in terms of motivation. He is explicit and blatant about his anarchy and goals. Yet, somehow, everyone keeps falling into the thought that Techno is a naturally passive force that can be activated into action. In actuality, Techno is very proactive. He prepares and plans beyond wartime. He acts swiftly and precisely. He follows Sun Tzu's tenants faithfully. He does not idle and sticks to his most recent plan to a T if he thinks he can win.

But Techno doesn't see outside himself. He knows what works for him but is blind to others' needs and desires. Anarchy is how Techno can live comfortably, but not everyone can and certainly not everyone in the server. He plays by his rules and rational and imposes those thoughts onto others, not understanding when they act contrary to his understanding and thus rules them to being irrational on purpose. That they just want to ruin his life.

Techno has hurt people and we all know this. Everyone here believes that Techno betrayed them not when he wouldn't join their government, but when he wouldn't leave well enough alone. He did that too late. If he had conceded at the end of the Manburg-Pogtopia war that he did what he was called to do and just left for retirement in the first place, he could've lived just fine. But he's proactive, and he felt betrayed by them when they instantly instilled not only a new leader, but one under the same format and structure that had already failed twice. But who ever said that was his problem?

Techno, as well as everyone but especially Techno, sees himself as the one in the right all the time. He doesn't regret a single thing he's done, at least not anywhere I've seen. He is sure in his beliefs, lifestyle, principles, and logic. He enforces these on other's and sees them as ignorant and dumb for thinking different to him. It takes a lot for him to let bygones be bygones, and it's easy to provoke him into action. Albeit, none of this is helped by the literal chorus of voices constantly memeing in his head, but my point still stands.

Technoblade is not 100% bad, nor is he 100% good. He's motivated and honest, but he doesn't think about other's preferences having the possibility of having a logic behind them.

I could go on and on with nearly every main player in this story but this is what I have off the top of my head.

Basically: no one is good. No one is bad. They all make mistakes as a result of their flaws and those mistakes negatively affect real people in real ways. And I wouldn't have them act any other way.

Your favorite doesn't need to be a saint. You don't have to bend over backwards to defend your fave in order to make them the morally correct person in any given situation. Let yourself love a rich, flawed character. Because they deserve to be loved for their flaws and all.

They deserve to be loved as people.

#ghostbur #technoblade #philza #ph1lza #wilbur soot #philza minecraft #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp wilbur #dsmp philza #dsmp techno #dream smp writing #character analysis #dream smp analysis #dream smp doomsday #dream smp spoilers

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 2 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 2

“I’m honestly surprised your parents allowed you on this trip, Danny,” his friend Sam mentioned as they and their other friend, Tucker, packed their bags onto the bus.

The now seventeen year old Danny shrugged as he focused on trying to make sure his bag wouldn’t be squished in the luggage compartment of the bus during the trip. He brought a foldable telescope with him in case he had a chance to stargaze, and he didn’t want it to get broken.

His school, Casper High, had some sort of deal with one of the local National Parks. The school was allowed to camp at the park at a reduced rate as long as the students helped the Forest Rangers with some minor tasks. Both parties considered it a win-win situation as the Park Service received some extra hands, and the school was able to pride itself on the survival and conservational experiences its students received. Technically, the trip was voluntary for seniors, but the teachers indirectly pressured the students to participate.

“To be honest, I’m more surprised they convinced Tucker to go,” Danny eventually replied after he was satisfied with the location of his bag.

“You’re telling me!” Tucker whined as he waited for his two friends while he fiddled with his PDA. “My mother actually threatened to stop making her meatloaf for me if I didn’t go! They said, “It would be good for me”. Can you believe that?”

“I think a little bit of hiking do you some good.” Sam poked him in the stomach for emphasis.

As Tucker shouted in protest, Danny and Sam exchanged a glance. Tucker did not like the outdoors, and he was very vocal about it. His world primary consisted of technology, and while it was amazing what he could do with his handheld and twenty minutes, his physical prowess was lacking.

“But seriously, Danny,” Tucker injected after he finally fended off Sam, “how did you convince your parents to let you come?”

Danny shrugged as he headed towards the door of the bus. Shouts from the teachers made it clear they would be boarding soon. “It seems like the school board managed to somehow convince them. All I know is that they had a meeting with them to raise concerns and to tell them I wasn’t going to go, but they came back stating it was fine. It must have been one heck of a persuasive argument.”

“That’s because my mother was involved.” The boys glanced over to see Sam angrily kick a rock out of the way. Her parents were often a taboo topic. “I thought I told you she was on the school board. I don’t know the full details of it, but I know she was preparing counterarguments to objections.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents are so gung ho about this trip. You’d think they’d consider camping beneath them.”

“It’s because of the prestige. They can brag that their daughter and their daughter’s school has ties to a government agency.”

While Danny raised an eyebrow, he admitted it seemed petty enough of a reason. Sam’s parents were very wealthy and liked to show off their wealth, much to their daughter’s dismay. They often argued with her regarding her appearance, music tastes, friends, after school activities, and other issues as they believed their daughter’s choices reflected poorly on them. However, they were usually fine with their daughter’s activism regarding conservation and animal rights as long as she didn’t go too far with it, such as the time she tried to stage a break out at the local zoo.

Their conversation ended as the boarding began. The three somehow managed to get the back of the bus, which allowed them to continue to talk without interruption. Most of the other students tended to avoid their group. They didn’t know why until one of the band members, Mikey, once asked Tucker how he put up with being so close to Danny. Confused, Tucker asked him to elaborate.

According to Mikey, a lot of the other students felt unnerved by Danny. As polite and quiet as he tended to be, there was something odd about him that no one was directly able to pinpoint. Mikey said he thought it could have been his eyes, citing how at times it almost seemed like Danny saw the world in a slightly different way than the rest of them. Tucker just laughed it off and explained that Danny had a traumatic event as a child so he often seemed unusually reserved. Mikey seemed to accept that answer, and afterwards, at least some of the students involved with the band were more open towards Danny.

The Fentons moved to Amity Park two years after Danny’s disappearance, so the majority of the student body was unaware of the event. If he was honest, Danny would never have told Sam and Tucker what happened, but his parents’ eccentricities forced the issue.

When his parent’s found out about Sam’s activism the first time she and Tucker visited their house, they made her swear she would not take their son into the woods with her. When he was finally allowed to take them to his room after Sam promised she wouldn’t, he hesitantly explained why they were so intense. His friends were very understanding, though they were just as puzzled about the entire thing as he was. Tucker even offered to hack into the old case file if Danny ever decided to look into it.

Sam did mention that it did help explain why they sometimes caught him staring off into space. She figured he was probably traumatized by something he couldn’t quite remember. Danny mentioned his sister once told him something similar, but he honestly didn’t remember anything that happened.

What he never admitted to his friends was that he knew why he sometimes seemed distant. Ever since his disappearance, he sometimes saw figures out of the corner of his periphery. Usually, he thought it was another person, but when he tried to check, whatever it was had disappeared. More recently, however, the figures seemed to let him glimpse them for a second or two. He could never make out anything other than the vague shape as a person. Since no one else seemed to notice them, he figured it was some weird sort of paranoia due to a repressed memory.

….

About a half hour after they left, Danny received a voicemail from his parents. He had forgotten he had put it on silent, but there was no way he could call them back while he was on the bus since Mr. Lancer was the chaperone for his bus, and that man was a stickler for the rules. Instead, he made a mental note to call them back as soon as he had permission as he clicked the play button.

His mother’s voice sounded absolutely frantic. “Daniel, you call me as soon as you get this! I don’t know what came over us, but we never should have let you go without some sort of protection. I should have never have let you go. If the teachers won’t let you call us, jest remember to never be the last or first in line, and never, under any circumstances, go anywhere alone. And, this is important Danny, if anyone you don’t know offers you food, don’t take it.” His dad could faintly be heard in the background talking about some sort of weaponry he made.

“And here I thought only my mom could sound like that. What was that about?” Sam asked. Her raised eyebrow told him she wasn’t going to let it drop until he had an answer.

“I think my parents finally realized I was going into the woods,” he replied as he put his phone away.

“I thought you said they were fine with you going,” Tucker chimed in while he rummaged through his back for a snack.

Danny didn’t immediately answer. He glanced away for a moment before finally he decided to open up about something which had been bugging him. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but my parents almost seemed like they were in a daze after that school meeting. They were so adamant I was not going to be allowed to go on that trip, and then they just changed their minds and stopped voicing their concerns. It was so weird that I actually called Jazz.”

It was true. He had called his sister at collage because of how out of character it was. While Jazz understood his concern, she reassured him one of the teachers or other parents managed to ease their concerns, and/or they realized some of their worries were silly and unfounded. He tried to tell her there was something more to it as she couldn’t physically see how off they were, but she just told him he was being paranoid and to enjoy himself.

Tucker whistled. “It must have been weird for you to do that.” Both Sam and Tucker knew full well how Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton tended to overanalyze almost everything. As a result, Danny often tried to avoid asking her questions regarding why a person would act in a certain way. The resulting explanation was often too lengthy to be interesting.

“As weird as that is, do you really think anyone in Amity would do something like drug or hypnotize your parents?” Sam argued.

“I… I don’t really know. Look, I never told you guys this,” Danny sighed as he steeled himself, “but, there has been a second incident prior to us moving. Our old house had a wooded area behind it. It wasn’t dense or anything, and you could see in it for like a half mile… but, according to my parents, and Jazz confirmed it, I went missing again for several hours in those woods. I don’t remember saying this, but they said I mentioned something about my playmate from the forest in Arkansas payed me a visit. There’s been an unspoken worry that this guy is following us for some reason.”

Neither of his friends said anything for a while until Sam spoke up. “That’s really messed up, but do you really think that’s the case? How would this person be able to find you? Do you even know what he or she looks like?”

He shook his head. “You know my parents are big names in fringe science. It’s possible he found us that way. I know that it’s really unlikely… It… It’s just… it was too weird, you know? With how my parents go on and on about other dimensions and being spirited away, them just suddenly changing their minds went against everything they believe.”

“Don’t worry, Danny. You’re with us and a bunch of other students. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

“And if something does happen, Sam can chase off the bad guy with those boots of hers. Ow!” Tucker glared at Sam as he rubbed his shin. “That was a compliment.”

She just snickered which caused the two to start bickering. The familiarity of it helped ease some of Danny’s worries. He knew he was just being paranoid, and that it was very unlikely anyone did something to his parents. It was just that he couldn’t shake off his uneasy feeling.

….

Their camp ground was in the Cuyahoga Valley region which was on the outskirts of the Allegheny plateau. The hills in the area were rolling due to the plateau and ancient glacial activity, but they were nowhere near as large as the ones found closer to the mountains in the next state over. Like many forests in the plateau, it was surprisingly old and dense.

Danny was unsettled by it. The hardwood trees blocked out a large percentage of the sun which cast permanent shadows on the area. Not only was it unlikely he would be able to stargaze, he kept thinking he saw something peek out from behind the trees. Chalking it up to paranoia, he decided to focus on the interior of the bus until they reached their destination. He didn’t need to freak out this early in the trip.

Due to the amount of students, the school split them into groups of about thirty and split them around the park. His group was sent to a series of cabins near one of the ranger stations. There were five or six assigned to each cabin. Thankfully for Danny, Tucker was also assigned to the same cabin.

After Mr. Lancer told them some general rules, they were told they had an hour to settle in before they would met up for lunch. The unpacking was fairly uneventful, though Danny was dismayed to learn some of the football players would be in his cabin. Most of them tended to leave him alone, but the one, Dash, liked to bully him. It was strange since he was the only person aside from Sam and Tucker who would come anywhere near him. Thankfully, other than a warning to keep his weirdness to himself, the football players decided to ignore him and Tucker.

He unpacked fairly quickly, so he decided he had enough time to try to contact his parents. Stepping outside, he tried to make a phone call. Someone picked up on the other end, but the signal must have been poor as the call was extremely choppy. After several minutes of trying to figure out what she was saying, he told her he would ask the Rangers if they had a land line he’d be able to use before he ended the call. He frowned as he checked the bars on his phone. There signal was strong enough that the call shouldn’t have been that choppy, but it was a cheaper phone since he had a bad habit of breaking them, so that could have been the reason.

They ate lunch at a mess hall in the camp complex. It was a fairly modest meal, but the beef and gravy was surprisingly good. Danny mused it was probably because his parents often experimented with cooking which often created strange results. He was also surprised that there was a vegetarian option available for Sam, but the school must have called ahead to let them know.

When they were finishing up, Mr. Lancer announced that one of the Rangers had an announcement. Danny glanced over to see a stern man, possibly in his late thirties, move towards the front of the room. He was fit and weathered, but every once in a while, there was a haunted look in his eyes.

The ranger, Rusty, gave the group a rundown of the general rules. He then paused for a moment before he spoke again. “This is unprecedented, but we are going to need your help for a search for a missing person.” Murmurs of excitement ran through the students. “This is a serious matter, and I request you pay attention. We have our search and rescue people and volunteers out right now looking for a twenty-two year old male. He is Caucasian and was last seen in a red jacket and blue jeans. He goes by Aiden.”

“Because you are not properly trained,” Rusty continued, “I only ask that you walk along the nearby trails for a couple hours in groups of two or more. Each group will be given a walkie-talkie. If you see or hear anything strange, call it into us. Don’t go off the trails. We don’t need more people getting lost today.” He fell silent and seemed to argue with himself for a moment before adding, “If you hear what sounds like screaming, particularly a woman screaming, call it in immediately. Large cats sometimes make that kind of sounds, and we definitely have Bobcats around. Luckily, they tend to avoid people, but we do like to know when we have signs of them.”

Twenty minutes later, the teens separated into their groups. Each group was provided a map, compass, and walkie-talkie. Rusty took them to a large map posted outside the Ranger station and explained a little about the area. The trails he wanted them to take circled the surrounding area and were well marked. Before he let them go, he again warned them to report anything off, but did try to reassure them by letting them know other rangers would be regularly sweeping the area.

“Well, isn’t this a reassuring start to our trip,” Tucker sarcastically mentioned as he tried to figure out the map.

“It can’t be helped,” Sam told him as she ripped the map out of his hands and corrected it before handing it back to him. “They must be desperate if they’re asking students to help.”

“Hey, I’m not used to replying on handheld maps.”

“You could try bringing it up on GPS,” Danny mentioned as they headed towards the one trail.

“That’s a great idea!” Tucker fiddled with his PDA for a moment before turning back to his friend. “Are you okay, dude? You sound a little off.”

“Oh, I guess this would hit a little too close to home,” Sam mentioned as she examined his expression.

Danny sighed as he glanced away from her. “Kind of. Even though I don’t remember it, I was in this exact same situation before. I hope they find the guy, at least for his family’s sake.”

The trio fell silent as they began their walk on one of the easy trails. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, though Tucker complained starting about halfway through the hike. Sam tried to distract them by identifying some of the local flora, but it only worked for so long.

By the time they made it back to camp, it was almost dinner time. Danny was glad to be back around the group. Although he never mentioned anything to his friends, he felt as if he was being watched the entire time. The trees seemed oppressive at times, and he was honestly surprised he didn’t have a panic attack while they were on the trail.

After dinner, he asked Rusty if there was a phone he would be able to use. Rusty told him that he would have to wait until the morning because they needed the line for the search. Danny understood and thanked the man.

Before he had a chance to head back to his cabin, Rusty called out to him, “While you’re here, make sure you never go off on your own.”

“I know. I mean, my parents drilled that into me for years,” Danny admitted with a shrug.

Rusty examined him closely before stepping closer and whispering, “You’ve witnessed something strange in the past. I can tell by the look in your eyes and how tense you are. In any heavily wooded area, the more open you are to the unusual, the more likely it might show up again.” He walked off without another word. Unnerved, Danny returned to his cabin and waited for his friend.

Tucker still wanted to complain about the amount of walking they did when he returned to the room, which prompted a discussion regarding how in the world Sam was able to enjoy things like that. Danny was about to bring up what the ranger told him when the football players burst into the room. Normally, Danny would just ignore them, but this time, he was intrigued by their excited whispers.

“Hey dweebs,” Dash addressed them, much to Danny and Tucker’s surprise, “did you hear what happened?” An evil grin appeared on his face when they told him they didn’t. “Kwan overheard the rangers talking earlier. You know that guy they were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Danny answered, “Did they find him?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t alive.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- End of chapter notes :

The Cuyahoga (Ky-ah-HOE-ga) Valley is a real place. I chose it for some very specific reasons. 1) The forests in that area are extremely large 2) I’m fairly familiar with the landscape and weather as I grew up in another part of the Allegheny plateau 3) The parks in that area are a bit unusual as you have a mix of privately owned and government owned areas which I’m using to my design as there’s more leeway with what they can and can’t build in those areas 4) some old towns have been “swallowed” by the national park including one famous “helltown”

The Allegheny (Al-ah-gain-ie) plateau is one part of the Appalachian Mountains, which are said to be the oldest mountains in the world. You don’t really have the high peaks or rock terrain associated with other ranges since they’re so worn, but there are a lot of hills, valleys, creeks, and streams. There are also a lot of coal mines since it’s a coal rich area. What’s also very strange about the plateau is that you can be in a town or suburbs, but within 15-20 minutes, you can be on the outskirts of a deep forest. There are also some swamps and marshy areas within the plateau as well.

Also, a lot of the names for natural landmarks in the Allegheny plateau originate from the tribes who originally settled there. There are even some burial mounds in the Cuyahoga area.

#so i heard you like folklore #danny phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fantasy #supernatural #sam manson #tucker foley #maddie fenton #jack fenton #vlad plasmius #folklore #sooooooooo much folklore #Verboten

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Worth (PT 2) - Nik

CW: choking, captivity, angst, intimate whumper, noncon touch, collar mention, magic whump, it as a pronoun

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Thankfully, the Sorcerer left him alone afterwards. The man even unclipped the leash, to Nik’s delight. He was grateful, but he was equally frustrated. If the man intended on taking it off so quickly, why even bother? The Sorcerer glided around the room, moving from one group to the next with ease. Perhaps he just realized how cumbersome it would be to drag the boy around with him.

The entire room had seen him when they entered anyway. The Sorcerer had made sure of that.

Nik stood by the wall, the opposite side of the room from the other exotic pets. He bristled at the implication, refusing to give it any merit. He was not a pet. He was not trained; he didn’t follow the man around and lean into his hand. And he never would.

He didn’t want to look the animals in the eye. An Alicorn was saddled and hitched to a post in one corner, a phoenix in another. Nik smirked as he surveyed the golden cage.

Mine’s bigger.

He groaned silently at himself, unbelieving at how far he had fallen.

Gods, what would Kia say about me now? Would she understand? Would be angry that I don’t fight back? That I don’t make it as difficult on the vampire as possible?

Nik looked around cautiously. No eyes were on him. He could very nearly pass for a human, simply a human with a golden collar. There were no guards, no restraints that kept him down.

What’s keeping me here? The doors, the balcony is open. I, I could run; couldn’t I?

He tried to take a step forward, but found that his body wouldn’t move. The vow he had made echoed back in his mind.

“I will come peacefully and I will stay.”

He sighed and let his eyes fall closed. The Sorcerer’s addition had slipped his mind. That was why the man felt safe enough to leave him alone; to take off the lead. Nik wasn’t going anywhere.

“There you are little creature.”

Nik wanted to keep his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see the dark hair or the velvet dress ever again.

He should have realized that these humans didn’t care what he wanted anymore.

“I was surprised your keeper doesn’t have you by his side at all times. Has he trained you that well? He must know how valuable you are.”

Ramona tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, and he shuddered, still refusing to open his eyes. He would take the man, the vampire, anytime to keep away from her. She looked at him as though she was starved. Even now, he could feel the intensity of her gaze over his skin.

“You are, by far, the most interested creature here,” he stated, hand still in his hair. Her fingers traced the braids, felt along the leaves and scratched at his scalp. It was torture. Pure torture to stand there and take the invasive touch, but madness would be a thousand times worse. “The rest of these beasts are so primal. So simple. Even the ones that have magic have a limit to their usefulness. But you? The possibilities are endless.”

It was like her words had crawled inside his chest and rot him from the inside out. His chest was tight and his stomach sour. Nik kept his eyes firmly shut, refusing to cry in front of her. She’d surely love to thumb away his tears and keep her hands on his skin.

“Come, let's look at them.”

She grabbed his hand, and Nik pulled away, frightened.

“I,I,” he stuttered, trying to find an excuse. “I shouldn’t move from where I was left.” His face was hot under the words, but he would take that over being with her.

Ramona smiled at him and draped her arm around his shoulders. “Argamon!” She called sweetly.

A few feet away, the man looked up at the sound of her voice.

“Can I take your little pet on a walk?”

Nik cringed at the term. It hurt to hear, especially how casually it fell from her lips. The conversational tone made it easier to believe, but Nik tried to remain steadfast. Tried to keep it form worming into his brain to stay.

The man waved them off without a word, turning back to the conversation.

Ramona locked her arm around his and started to pull him around the room. She would lean over occasionally, commenting on people’s attire or social ties. Nik didn’t care. He didn’t want to look at the animals on display, but it was either that or the people.

Most were magical, although some were simply exotic. A tiger, collared and chained to keep it docile. Peacocks and deer whose antlers were adorned with jewelry and flowers. Even in such decadence and display, Nik’s eyes caught on a cage in the corner.

His breath hitched.

To anyone else, they were simply little white creatures. Squirrels that chattered and climbed the sides of the cage. There were nearly a dozen in the cage that was used for decoration on one of the tables. Probably the most ordinary of the party.

Not to Nik. Not to those who knew where they were from.

They were from Nik’s homeland; his original home. The Sorcerer had forced them from that place years ago, and Nik hadn’t seen the little creatures since. The sight of them made him swallow thickly, a deep ache in his heart to go home. He wanted to be there, young and playing in the treetops. Unaware of the twists that life would throw at him.

One of the little squirrels wasn’t playing or fighting. It was simply sitting, watching the humans pass by with nearly intelligent eyes. Nik cocked his head, disbelieving.

There were sprites that took the form of the little white squirrels. Nik and Kia used to play with them, leave out food or build little huts to keep them dry and warm. In return, sometimes the sprites would leave them gifts or lead them to fresh fruits or berries.

This one seemed to look back at him, gold flashing over its dark eyes for a moment.

Nik nearly gasped, closing his mouth before anyone could see. They had caught a sprite. They had caught one and brought it here. They clearly didn’t know what it was; how precious it was. They had just shoved it into a cage with a dozen common ones, left to adorn some rich noble’s drink table.

What would happen to them after the party? They looked interesting, exotic, but the least so in this room. Would they just be released? Sold as pets? Nik refused to acknowledge any other alternative.

“Are you thirsty?” Nik, a bit lost in the moment, turned to look at Ramona blankly. She grinned at him, hand resting on the back of his neck over the golden collar.

“Here,” she said, leading him to the table. She grabbed one of the cups to hand to him, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. She followed his gaze and looked curiously at the cage.

He was looking at them intently, nearly making eye contact with one of the little rodents that was sitting still. Ramona watched, taking a drink from the cup herself. So very interesting, this one. Of all the creatures, magical and not, you’re enamored with the white rats?

“You can have one, if you wish,” she mentions offhandedly. The boy wheels to face her, more eager than she’s seen it all night.

“I, I, I can? They’re yours?”

Ramona smiles at his tone, so hopeful and trying to appease her. “No, but the host won’t mind. These little rats are nothing but table decoration. Five for a coin.”

Nik nods, even though part of him wants to correct her. Not all of them are worth so little.

He turns to the cage and slowly lifts one of the wire gates. The other squirrels darted away, chattering at him for invading their space, while the one stayed perfectly still. It watched him wearily, unsure of what to make of the hand that moved slowly towards it.

It didn’t recognize him.

Nik took a deep breath and tried to push that realization away. He was too weak, the reins that controlled his magic too tight for the sprite to see who he really was. Before, when he was free, they could sense the shared magic that wove through all of them. He never had to coax or entice them.

Luckily, the Sorcerer hadn’t re-adjusted the cuffs. They still had the leeway that was allowed for transforming the clothes. It was a pitiful amount, but it was more than he had had in months.

Nik summoned the smallest amount of magic that he could, rolling it until it was no bigger than a small seed. He hid it between his fingers and offered the hand to the sprite.

The little creature perked and sniffed his hand, quickly locating this hidden magic. It’s tiny paw padded on his finger as it surveyed, and Nik thought he might cry. It stiffed and nuzzled around his hand, nipping at his palm briefly.

After a moment, it climbed onto his hand dug between his fingers until it got to the magic. It pressed its paws into it and let it seep into its fur.

The dark eyes shone gold, as did stripes of fur on its sides. Nik blinked, and the patterns were gone, hidden back under the sprite’s disguise.

It recognized him, too.

Nik pulled his hand out carefully, and the sprite let him. It scampered up his arm and burrowed under the collar of his robe, a tiny heartbeat against his shoulder.

“Well! It likes you!” Ramona cooed, drawing a fingertip closer to it. The sprite poked its head out to inspect her finger, but wrinkled its snout and hid again into Nik. Ramona simply laughed.

Nik turned his head away and tried to wipe away the tears as discreetly as he could. It was so familiar, so wonderful to have something that reminded him of home. But it also made his chest tight, like someone was tightening a band around his heart. It hurt. It hurt so see what the humans had done to things like him. They refused to see they’re worth, refused to treat them the with respect that they deserved.

“Well.”

Nik jolted, hand protectively coming up to cover the sprite on his shoulder. The Sorcerer was advancing quickly, his composure slipping and exposing the anger in his face. Nik flinched violently when the man grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from Ramona, from the table and the party.

He was pulled into the hallway, away from prying eyes or fleeting glances. The Sorcerer grabbed Nik by the neck and pinned him to the wall, cutting off his air.

“What did I tell you about tonight, hm? About disobeying me? Did I give you permission to access magic? Did I?!”

Nik wheezed, scrambling to take in any air at all. His heart was beating like a drum in his head, pounding in his chest. The hard edge of the collar dug into his skin, sure to leave a deep bruise.

The man rammed him back into the wall again, bashing the back Nik’s head.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

As if on cue, the little sprite popped out and scampered to the Sorcerer’s hand. It bit him, and the surprise seemed to shock the man into letting Nik go.

He gasped, sliding to the ground. Coughing through his battered throat was torture, but unavoidable. His lungs spasmed, trying to remember the normal pattern of breathing. The man looked down at him, attention now on the little sprite that chattered angrily at him from the boy’s shoulder.

“What is this?” he demanded. Nik tried to clear his throat.

“It- it’s a s-prite,” he croaked. “They’re, they’re magic; like me. R-ramona said, I, said I could have one.”

“Come now, Argamon. Let your pet have a pet.”

Nik hadn’t seen her follow them, but he hadn’t been focused on much else. He looked up at the Sorcerer, eyes watering and throat aching.

“I’m, I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again, but please. Please let me keep it. Please.”

The man didn’t answer him, instead reaching a hand out to the little squirrel. It sniffed at him and cocked its head. It pressed forward and nuzzled into his hand, then flinched back. Nik saw that it was confused, but was unsure as of why.

“Fine,” he conceded, Ramona’s eyes heavy on him. “You may keep it. But rest assured, there will be a punishment for this.”

Nik nodded even as he felt cold terror flush his system. He didn’t want to go back in the dark. He didn’t want go more than anything else he had felt his entire life. The knowledge of what was waiting for him was all he could think about, pulling images unwillingly into his mind. He was scared. Scared of the cell, scared of the workshop, scared of going mad.

The sprite nuzzled against his neck and Nik let his head fall back against the wall.

He was scared but this was worth it.

~

@welcome-to-the-whumpfest @ohmywhump @thehopelessopus @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @pepperonyscience @insanitywishes @redstainedsocks

[Pls let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!]

#whump #magic whump #intimate whumper #noncon touch tw #collar mention #angst #nik #iwrotethis #the sprite is actually already on the masterlist collage! #HAHAH that's right! #I planned this all along!!!

[mysticandskepticmuses]

SEASON TWO AU:  literally refuse to believe that with as obsessed as Rei is about her immortality and remaining alive no matter what, her double sleeving and being backed up in multiple places, that she didn’t have at least one hard copy of her stack backed up in another active sleeve or in a facility entirely disconnected from the main backup on Earth / Head in the Clouds.  While it would not have been updated every time the main backup was, I think it would’ve been backed up once a week or so after the backup was run through filters and made sure it was virus free.  She also would’ve been able to access mainframe backups at Head in the Clouds etc; while she may not have up to date and exact memories of what happened in those last few days before Kovacs’ assault on the Head in the Clouds facility, I think that she would’ve had enough intel and enough resources and connections to put two and two together and figure out what had happened with Takeshi on site.  She would have been laying low afterwards, gathering her influence again and collating her favors, money and resources while reinforcing whatever identity she was currently existing under and making certain that it couldn’t be tied to Reileen Kawahara and any of the activities that that personae would’ve been prosecuted for.  She would have also taken actions to attempt to retrieve Quell - at the very least her DHF / stack if not the entire clone - it would have to be assumed that Quell was already active and awake / (plot device for season 2 = spoilers here) and too dangerous for Rei to risk pursuing actively.  

What this means for interactions / plot devices with any Quell’s or Takeshi’s etc. will be decided per interaction and plot wishlist!  I am 100% fine with having Rei be present on Harlan’s World in another sleeve etc.  I am also cool w/ plots w/ her still on Earth for any interactions with a Kristin or any other characters post season one that would like to plot w/ her.  Also good w/ her being pretty much anywhere! Just let me know what you’d like to explore and we’ll make it work.

#VERSE. ( reileen kawahara. ) #VERSE. ( altered carbon. )

[lazyspeedy]

i saw taylor live three years ago today at rep tour night 2 lol

#AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH #ye it was three years ago but like i won’t forget it e v e r #literally one of the best nights of my life so far #ahhh 🥺🥺🥺🖤 #and like it was so good and me and my friend were so lucky #she won free tickets (her shows are expensive 😭) #and then we snuck down to better seats lmaoooooooo #they were empty like ones ppl were trying to resell last minute #and it was a RA IN show an UNEXPECTED one too! #i think the first unexpected one since like the fearless or speak now tour ??? #very good night i cried and screamed #wish i was able to ask my friend to record the ybwe/love story mash up #couldn’t ask tho bc i was too busy crying 🥲 #and like i couldn’t believe ti happened afterwards too i didn’t post it anywhere #it was honestly so needed bc that was a pretty r o u g h time ٩( ᐛ )و jr yr was not fun #but anyways i live rep sm #also it was funny bc i still didn’t know the lyrics 100 so the night before i was trying to at least memorize the chorus 😭 #i also took the SAT for the third time earlier that day so indeed much needed 😭🖤 #ahh really remember how warm the heat felt from don’t blame me and ready for it and then cold my jacket felt as the rain kept pouring 😭 #🎟

[savrenim]

Do you have any role-playing tips? Especially for a more ~serious~ character? Cause i want my character to bond with the rest of the party, but im not rly sure where to start, especially since ive established her as kind of closed off

OH WOW OKAY

super honored that you asked

gods lemme see, I have a lot to say and some of it might be contradictory because so much of improvising and character creation and motivation is character, so this is going to be stream-of-consciousness under the cut

things that you can do that are just you—get comfortable improvising things, DnD and roleplaying in general is improv, it’s all say “yes and” and “go with the flow”

—but also get comfortable saying “yes” to yourself and not second-guessing yourself

—ie if you say something or do something don’t second-guess it, let it have happened, let it be canon. and then from there, ask yourself why.

—seriously, the most interesting thing I have ever done and best way that I’ve ever built characters is I thought I had an idea who they were, and then they said or did something during a session that made me go “oh shit, why did they do that”, and it either connected to a thing in their backstory I didn’t realize or indicated that they had a stronger feeling about something than I realized and letting the thing that I’d done be canon that then I post went back and extrapolated from allowed the character to grow and mature and develop better than if I’d been wishy-washy or had stopped myself from doing the thing that came to mind in the moment because I was worried about whether or not it was “in-character” enough

—and you can use that to reverse-engineer a character that better fits the overall party dynamic

—for example, for the department campaign I’d completely accidentally created a character who was a bit of a prissy field librarian here for linguistics and to be the arcane consultant and had never seen a death before and believed strongly in all life was utterly irreplaceable and precious for a party that was way more classic DnD and way less character-driven and VERY murderous even though we’re the good guys on a classic “save the world from demons” quest just very chill about murdering moochs, and so slowly from interactions and reactions it turned out her upbringing was a more extreme high class controlling mother and her morals developed into a way more interesting “I am privileged and detached and am trying to say that I care about not killing but tbh as an elf who’s essentially immortal and the rest of you all die in 50 years anyways it is kind of weird to care about your lives and my family thinks I’m weird and really going through a phase for doing so and it’s hard to stick to that when you all seem chill with killing people so okay I guess we’re murdering people now, gotta stop the demons” and the more I leaned into that, the more interesting it became, because as she became a more powerful arcanist I started leaning into the “the more high level spells she cast the more she started power-tripping/the power affected her brain and the less she stuck to the morals she cared so much about at first that her friends didn’t” that, like. this has been a hella interesting, hella engaging character for me. if I had gone “Seraph Maewel has never seen anyone die before and she refuses to be a part of intelligent humanoid killing so we have to make sure we only knock people out and just kill the monsters and I’m going to throw up after every single fight that we accidentally do murder people” it would have been static and boring and sure, what I initially established, but it turns out what I initially established wasn’t best for the campaign and this was an interesting, in-character transition that happened naturally because I did things as I did them aligned with what I understood about the character and then thought about afterwards how it fit with everything I’d established before and what it implied that maybe was different than I thought

—also people change it’s okay and in fact VERY fun to do character growth arcs you don’t have to feel married to your initial conception of a character

—there’s another concept that’s a little bit tied? that is pretty much IC vs OOC choices, of, like, and this is my strong opinion because I’ve been a counselor who’s been in charge of making LARPs fun for little kids for years now? but basically, on a larger scale than the tiny individual interactions, it is your *job* to come up with IC excuses and still make genuine in character decisions that serve the party and that serve the narrative

—like, for example, a while back, I played a character who actively was planning to leave the party after a year. they hadn’t told the rest of the party they wanted to leave, because it was their business, but they were in a point in their life where absolutely nothing was going to convince them to stay with this group of people, *especially* the fact that they cared about them, mostly because they wanted to Prevent An Event That Had To Do With Their Backstory From Happening To Everyone. out of character, I knew that I couldn’t just Leave The Party, so I made sure the DM knew how my character felt, knew that I wasn’t *actually* going to leave and that my character might be getting uncomfortable or look like they were making plans to leave but that I trusted the DM to do the rest, and the way that it was resolved was my character really didn’t *want* to leave their new friends and just cut it too close when they thought they had more time and the Event Happened and after it happened there was no reason to leave. but I found IC excuses to keep choosing an OOC action that served the narrative way better than going “my character really wants to leave so guess I’m going to leave.”

—you honestly probably do things like that anyways? in terms of, like, there is a Plot Hook so you find an IC reason to care about it. but it’s a very useful skill to develop to look at a narrative, go “what serves this narrative best?”, and then once you answer that question go “so what reason does my character have to try to do something like that or as close to that as they can?”

—right now all of the above advice kind of sounds like “yooo change your character” and the answer is also, *don’t*. balancing meta stuff is a…meta thing? just make sure that you’re having fun, and that you’re playing the character that you want to play, and that you have Strong Feelings and act in ways that give you the Feels that you want and that you’re playing for you too. compromise is compromise all around you aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re the only person who gives any leeway then it’s not fun and easy to get bitter, roleplaying is collaborative and other people should work to reach out to you too and give you hooks

—biggest and maybe most important bit: your DM is your friend. esp if they’re trying to facilitate deeper roleplaying. tell them how yooo you want to try to get closer to the rest of the team, is there any sort of challenge that they can throw at you all that will facilitate teambuilding? a little bit of “we all saved each other’s lives” or “oh fuck we got stuck in this cave in together and have to work together in ways we haven’t to survive” or “oops we all have to be undercover and are relying on each other to keep up this act” or just any situation in a story or piece of fanfiction that you would see and go “aND NOW THEY ARE A FOUND FAMILY WHO CANNOT BE TORN APART”, well, let that happen to your group.

things that you can do immediately to have reasons to care about the party as a whole:

—if you can learn their backstories, do? group bonding happens with sharing of personal backstories, and, like, OOC, everyone wants to talk about their character and stuff. if you don’t like them, a good in character reason is maybe you’re paranoid and don’t trust them and want to do some goddamn background checks on the people that you’re working with. but once you know more things about them, you have so many more reasons that you can use to go “ah yup and here’s something my character would hella care about and maybe might be the start of a bond”

—as a closed off brooding character you still can have feelings that you are just the Dramatic Person In The Corner that you don’t show them but they’re there, that is everyone’s favorite character in tv shows as they wait for said character to Crack and admit that they have Emotions

—for example maybe pick another character in the party and oh wow you love them so much, they are your tiny son, you would never show it but nOpe they are yours now and nothing touches them

—pick another character that you absolutely hate and grumble about and glare at, except they are your asshole and nobody else outside of you is allowed to pick on them and if anyone threatens them you will murder that person

—Marian Daywrym, yet another DnD character of mine, has done both; three of the four other characters in the party are 16-ish year olds and Marian is a gruff 56 year old who oops has adopted three more children because tHEY ARE CHILDREN, and then there’s Djin, space rogue, her ex co-captain of a ship that broke up when they had a huge fight a decade ago and at this point the way that she interacts with Djin is mostly being incredibly passive-aggressive and mean to his face but pretty clearly would Die for him and if anyone else tries to be mean to him she is ready to Fight, and that is how my grumpy standoffish “I’m the medic and I’m here to do my fucking job and stay the fuck alive” space mom captain, who also has a policy of “don’t bond or poke into each other’s personal business no drama on this ship we all just want to scavenge in peace” ended up being So Emotionally Attached To Everyone

—but there’s actually another potentially interesting route to go, depending on what kind of Brooding, Closed Off character you are that isn’t “oops secretly now I love and would die for everyone”? which is basically…find someone in the party that you decide that your character maybe admires in some way? of, like, maybe they have an Ideal of they’re going to be a Hero Of Justice and you had that ideal as a kid and it only brought you suffering and pain and you never reached it and so fell off that path and that’s one of the reasons that you’re closed off and it’s Painful watching this person with such hope in their eyes try and you don’t know if you want them to succeed where you couldn’t because they deserve to succeed or if that’ll hurt more too, and that gives you reason to be emotionally invested in their storyline and find yourself taking them under your wing and also for everyone else to go “hey are you okay want to open up?” and for you to maybe feel vulnerable enough to talk about your backstory, looking at someone who reminds you of a less broken you. or not even ideals that you had, ones that are “wow are you really the sort of person that I wish I could have been?” or hey, maybe you’re the idealistic one, then is there anyone in the party that is essentially a “wow I resent you so much for starting from a similar point that I did and falling off the path and/or am fascinated because am I looking at what’s in my future, I need to figure out what makes you tick even though it’s like looking at a train wreck in slow motion of whether or not it’s going to happen to me”

—those are all the thing that come to mind to me right now but if you want me to Tell Me About Your Character And Your Party And Your Game I am always down to listen to people talk about their DnD characters (midterms season is coming up so I might be on and off of here but I swear if you ping me I won’t be ignoring you, just answering when I can)

#dungeons and dragons #roleplaying #advice

[ao719]

Fate Part 8

Fate-Part 8 (Liam x MC) (NSFW)

Characters belong to Pixelberry

I was going to wait until tomorrow but I got too excited. There maybe one more for this series, but after that I’ve got more plans for these two love birds, and a couple other new series ideas.

@stopforamoment @romanticatheart-posts @wannabemc2 @leelee10898 @cocomaxley @hopefulmoonobject @3pawandme @annekebbphotography @indiacater @liam-rhys @furiousherringoperatortoad @mynameiskaylabella @jyreusser85

“Riley?” Liam said standing up from his desk.

“Hello, Liam.” The minute she saw him, her heart felt like it was going to burst at its seams, and her eyes welled up with tears.

“What...what are you doing here? I was waiting for you to call...Maxwell said you might not-“

“I love you, Liam.” she interrupted him. For a girl who was so afraid just a day ago, she couldn’t wait another second to tell him.

“What?” he asked as a smile started to creep on his lips. He heard what she said, he just wanted to hear her say it again.

“I love you,” she said as the tears started streaming down her cheeks, “I told you two years ago when I left that I would always love you, and I kept my word...I never stopped,” she said through a broken sob, “I’ve never loved anyone in my life the way I love you, Liam.....and I don’t want to love anyone else. I was just afraid to say it out loud...to let my guard down...” She buried her face in her hands unable to control the cry. She’s wanted to say that for so long....it just took fate to make her realize it and to give her the chance.

Liam walked to her and wrapped his arms around her for a moment. He nudged his finger under her chin and tilted her face to meet his. “I love you Riley, and nothing is going to take you away from me this time. You don’t have to be afraid, because I’m not going anywhere,” he said as he wiped the tears from her cheek and softly kissed her lips, then he walked her over to the sofa and they sat down.

“I’m sorry, Liam...I’m sorry it took me so long, and that I didn’t tell you how I really felt. I should have told you when you said it to me, but I was afraid, and I was letting my what if’s get in the way. But I don’t want my fear to cheat me out of the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Riley....you don’t have to apologize. I understand. And I would have waited for as long as it took. After seeing you in Paris, I didn’t plan on losing you again, my love.”

She looked up at him and just stared into his eyes for a moment before pressing her lips to his. He cupped her cheek with hand as their kiss grew deeper and he pulled her up on top of him, legs straddling his body. She ran her fingers through his hair as he trailed kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and raised her shirt off over her head and then removed her bra. He kissed down her chest, taking her nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, she let out a soft gasp. She pulled his shirt off and slid her hands across his chest, leaning into another passionate kiss, their tongues battling one another. He reached his arm around her lower back and moved her to lay on the sofa, him now on top. He stood up, staring at her, while he removed his pants and boxers, and then he removed her pants and underwear. Leaning back over her crashing his lips to hers, then down her chest, her stomach, and down her thigh. Then he made his way back up to her center, teasing as he slid his tongue up and down her slit, then swirling his tongue around her clit. She let out a moan when he slid a finger inside, and then another, his tongue still swirling as he pumped his fingers in and out. She clenched her legs together, and he quickly spread them back open, as she started moving her hips with his mouth. She reached down and grabbed his hair, “Liam....oh....Liam....” she yelled as her legs started quivering, and he lapped up her juices as she climaxed. He kissed back up her stomach and chest and pressed his lips to hers. Teasing her as he rubbed his hard length up and down over her entrance, as she bit her lip, which drove him crazy when she did that. He slid inside her slowly, allowing her to feel every inch of him go in, her walls stretching around his cock, as they both let out a moan. Moving their hips together, he crashed his lips to hers again, then to that spot on her neck, as she gripped her nails into his back. “Oh god.....Liam......” she yelled as his thrusts became harder and deeper, “Fuck.....Riley.....”he groaned as she wrapped her legs around his body allowing him to go even deeper. “Liam.....don’t stop.....fuck.....” his thrusts now moving faster and faster until he felt her legs clench tight around him and start shaking and she let out a loud moan as she climaxed again, he thrust a few more times until he spilled inside her. He laid next to her on the sofa, both trying to catch their breath, as he moved a strand of hair away from her face, “I love you, Riley.”

“I love you too, Liam,” she said as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Can I ask...not that I’m complaining at all in anyway, but...what made you-“

“A fortune cookie....” she said interrupting him knowing what he was going to ask.

“A fortune cookie?” he laughed.

“A fortune cookie...” she smiled.

Liam had canceled his appointments for the day, and he and Riley spent the rest of the day making up for lost time, and most of the night as well. If they weren’t laying there talking, they were making sure they were getting two years worth of something else.

Riley woke late the next morning and got out of bed, trying not to wake Liam. She made some coffee and headed out on the veranda of her room and stood there gazing out. For the first time in two years she felt utterly happy. She felt like her old self, the old Riley from two years ago, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She felt his arms come up around her waist as her grin grew wider and she rested her head back against him as he kissed her neck.

“Good morning, love.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“You ready for the wedding today?”

“I am! I can’t wait to see everyone. And to see Bertrand actually say I do,” she said with a chuckle.

“It should be a wonderful day. You should head down to the boutique soon to pick out what you’re wearing.”

“Yeah I suppose so...”

“We’ll have to leave here in a couple hours, I have some things I need to take care of, but I’ll meet you down front when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be there,” she said turning to him and kissing him, she felt him smile against her lips.

“I love you,” she said.

“God, I love hearing you say that again,” he said as he slid his hands down her thighs and picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist with a giggle.

“We have to get ready mister.” he let out a groan.

“Fine, fine.” he said kissing her cheek with a smile. “I love you too.”

Riley headed down to the palace boutique and picked out a dress to wear, then headed back to her room to shower and get ready. A couple hours later she met Liam down in front by the car.

“Wow....you look stunning,” he said kissing her on the cheek.

“You’re looking handsome yourself.”

They got in the car and headed to the Beaumont estate for Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding. When they pulled up, everything was covered in white roses, Riley couldn’t believe how beautiful everything looked. They got out of the car and headed inside where Maxwell and Drake spotted them.

“Blossom!!! I thought you weren’t coming! I thought you were staying home.” As he pulled her into a hug.

“I didn’t tell him...obviously.”

“You knew she was here?” Liam asked.

“I’ll let him tell you, but, you have a very good best friend, and so don’t I.” Riley said smiling at Drake.

“Well, I have to talk to you anyway.” Liam said and he and Drake walked off.

“So, are things ok with you and Liam?”

“They’re better than ok, Maxwell.” she said smiling.

“Oh my god I’m so happy! Today is all about love, for everyone!!” he pulled her into another hug.

Liam and Drake came back and they all made their way in for the ceremony. Afterwards, they headed out onto the grounds outside where the reception was being held under a giant white tent. Bertrand and Savannah were making their rounds when they got to Riley and Liam.

“Lady Riley I’m so glad you were able to make it. You too, your majesty.” Bertrand said.

“So am I Bertrand. And Savannah you look stunning. Congratulations to you both.”

“Congratulations. It was lovely.” Liam said.

“Thank you both for coming,” Savannah said giving them a hug.

“Blossom!! Ready to open some champagne?” Maxwell came beaming at Riley holding two swords as she let out a laugh.

“Ready,” she grinned as Liam kissed her cheek and she went off with Maxwell.

“There’s the Lockwood we all know and remember,” Drake said clapping Liam on the shoulder with a grin.

A while later as the reception was winding down Liam approached Riley.

“Hello, love.”

“Hello yourself.”

“I have to head back to the palace. Drake said he would give you a ride back once you’ve said your goodbyes, if that’s ok?”

“Sure, is everything alright?”

“Yes, just something that needs my attention,” he said kissing her on the cheek.

“Ok.”

Riley said her goodbyes and found Drake, they headed to his truck and back to the palace.

“So what did he say when you told him you came to New York in his plane?” Riley asked laughing.

“He thanked me about a dozen times in a one minute time frame.” He said with a chuckle.

They pulled into the palace and as Riley was headed to the front Drake stopped her. “Follow me, Lockwood.” He said as he walked around the back of the palace.

“Where are we going?”

“Just stop asking questions and follow me.”

She did what he said and followed him around the outside of the palace, to the hedges leading into the garden maze. He walked to one of the hedges and picked up a red thread that was hooked to it and turned to her tying it loosely to her finger.

“Umm...wha-“

“Sshh...follow the thread,” he said smiling and then walked away.

Riley stood there staring into the maze confused, but followed the thread tied to her finger, spooling it as she went, until it lead her to the center. There were twinkling lights everywhere, and when she followed the red thread with her gaze, there was Liam holding the end of it with a smile.

“Liam? What’s all this?” she asked smiling.

“Riley,” he said taking a step toward her, “when I ran into you in Paris, it felt as if my whole world suddenly became right again, and I was reminded that night, like I knew before, how unequivocally in love with you I am. We’ve talked a lot about fate lately, and it reminded me of a story. Have you ever heard the legend of the Red String of Fate?”

“No, I don’t believe so.” Riley said, looking at the red thread tied to her finger.

“It’s an old folklore that says that the gods connect an invisible red string to two people who are meant to be soul mates, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. They say the red string may stretch or tangle, but it will never break. That those two people are destined to be together, no matter what. And it seems, my love, that our red string has finally become untangled.” Liam lifted his hand slightly above his head, and something slid down the red thread onto Riley’s finger. When she looked down, she saw the ring, just as Liam dropped to one knee as he took Riley’s hand in his.

“Riley...I want to spend everyday of my life showing you how much I love you, and proving that fate got it right. Will you marry me?”

Tears were already steaming down Riley’s face as she nodded her head, “Yes, Liam, yes!”

He stood and slid the ring all the way onto her finger, she threw her arms around him as her lips pressed into his, the tears still coming.

“I love you, Liam.”

“I love you too, Riley.”

#choices trr #king liam #liam x riley #the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #trr liam #trr mc #trr riley

[twdmusicboxmystery]

9x04: Details

Okay, let's get down to the details. 

***As always, spoilers for 9x04 abound in this post. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

Michonne: 

 In the opening sequence with Michonne, we saw a lot of interesting symbols. Apples (which we later also saw Daryl eating; Apple Theory), lots of books with visible titles, and we also saw Michonne journaling, which reminded me of Beth.

In the sequence where she saw the walker hanging and eventually picked up the bat, it reminded a lot of us of Sasha in S5. Michonne just seemed angry and somewhat out of control.

Negan, talking to Michonne, proclaimed himself on the C team. Kind of interesting because back in the prison, entire group stayed in the C block of the prison. Symbolically, C seems to represent wherever TF is currently living. So just more reinforcement of the ABCD symbolism.

Talking to Michonne, he tells her she’s a warrior and should embrace her violence. (Ever the manipulator.) Negan says that behind walls and bars, "we die." He means the warrior. I don’t even think this is a particularly TD theme, but we’ve seen it in the show before. Um, back in S5? Remember Carl said being in Alexandria would make them weak, and then Rick, Carol and Daryl discussed it on the porch. Just saying this is yet another theme that ties back to S5.

This isn’t anything new, but it also struck me how often Carl has been mentioned since he died. Michonne kept saying, "He’s still here," and she means that he's there in spirit, even though he's dead. Notice how they never said anything like that said about Beth. Father Gabriel asked Maggie about her in 5x10, but since then we've had exactly zilch.

Judith’s painting on the wall looked just like Eastman's daughter’s. Just pointing that out.

At one point, Negan tells Michonne, "we’re the same," and repeats it twice. That's exactly what Crazy Tattoo Guy at Terminus said too. So callbacks to Terminus, and the reiteration of that theme.

It’s an interesting theme. They’ve talked about it a lot on the show, and on TTD. Just about how there’s potential for EVERYONE to become a monster. The difference comes in individual choices. An interesting theory about this was put forth in my group, though. Since they were talking about parenting children, and Negan said he and Michonne were the same…perhaps a hint that Negan is Gracie’s father after all?

I thought it was sweet that Michonne talked about her sons (plural) and her daughter (Judith). Negan also said “nothing is worse than nothing.” (The profound themes were strong with this episode.)

I also wondered about the Game Day book Michonne read to Judith. I noticed the part she read talked about everyone putting on their gear for the game. Might have just been a small foreshadow that shit’s about to go down, either with Rick or the Whisperers. Don’t know if it will connect to anything else. Kind of interesting, though.

Eugene:

It caught my ear that Eugene talked about how there was a big buildup of water under the bridge overnight. That was significant because it happened overnight, not over a long period of time. It reminded me of 4x01 when Carol told Daryl that there'd been a big buildup of walkers against the prison fences overnight. The dialogue is even the same. (”big buildup overnight...”)

We were right about the names of the hordes being Shakespearean! Yea!

I knew right away we were when he called the new herds Tybalt and Cordelia. Seriously, I've never heard the name Tybalt used anywhere except in conjunction with Shakespeare. But then Eugene goes on to admit that the names are coming not only from Shakespeare's characters, but specifically from deceased characters in his plays.

Carol:

I don’t have a whole lot about Carol and Rick's interaction, except that Angela Kang did say on TTD that it's a callback to S4. Basically, it's supposed to be a mirror or an anti-mirror of the fact that Rick banished Carol in S4. Here, he talks about how he admires her, and her transformation gives him hope.

In this part, Carol says if the state saviors leave the rest of the group, that's on them. They need to “figure out who they want to be.” Major theme right there.

When Jed and the Saviors showed up to pick a fight at the bridge, Carol of course pretends to stand aside at first and then kicks his butt. He takes the keys, and the camera focused on those a lot. (Key theory.)

That's actually the last we saw of this particular plot. Rick and Daryl heard the gunshots and worried it would draw the walkers, but we don't actually know how the fight between Carol and the Saviors turned out.

Rick and Daryl falling into the hole:

Daryl says, “this time, man, it’s gonna go the way it was supposed to.” That theme was repeated constantly throughout 5x09. You know, the last episode we SAW Beth in before S9? (“It went the way it had to. The way it was always going to.”

The biggest thing this reminded me of is the Governor episodes. In 4x06, at the end of the episode, he falls into the big hole, that looks like a grave, with Megan. Walkers fall in as well and he has to fight to keep them from biting her. Walkers even fell into Rick and Daryl’s pit eventually, just like with the Gov.

The most significant thing about this, aside from all the Beth parallels in the Governor episodes, is that right after falling into a grave, the Gov is reunited with people he knew before and hadn't seen a long time (Martinez). That makes me hopeful.

We also have some serious resurrection symbolism here because we have living people trying to claw their way out of a grave.

There are so many interesting things in their conversation, some of which I talked about yesterday.

Daryl also mentioned, "trying" which we know is a theme. One we specifically heard him talking about in 5x06, Consumed, when he was looking for Beth.

He also talked about having faith. He said Rick wanted them to have faith in other people, but the truth is that Rick didn't have enough faith in them. Rick denied that being true, and explained that he was trying to honor Carl. And who was the original person to lecture Daryl about faith? That would be Beth.

It was super-sweet when Daryl said he would die for Rick and would've died for Carl.

I think it's super important that Rick and Daryl had to help each other get out of the pit. There's a lot of symbolism there, and for me, it's yet another way of showing that Rick will be back. Daryl couldn't get out of the pit without Rick any more than Rick could've gotten out without Daryl. They need one another to survive and thrive, so Rick can’t be dying yet. 

Everyone in my FB group immediately recognized the parallels between this scene and Daryl Rick climbing out of the ravine in S2. I’ve also seen edits of it around the fandom, so this wasn’t lost on anyone. It’s kind of an opposite situation, though.

In S2, Merle wasn’t truly there. Daryl was just hallucinating him. (Which also might be a foreshadow of Rick’s coming hallucinations, btw.) Here, obviously Rick is present in the flesh. But more than that, Merle didn't actually help Daryl out of the ravine in S2. Daryl had to get himself out. Here, Rick reached down with his hand, called Daryl ‘brother,’ and helped him out.

It was even more poignant because of the parallels to Merle, imho.

They were climbing out of a grave while death tried to pull them down. We even saw the walker hands reaching up from below, which I thought was a powerful image. 

I even feel like…

…okay, maybe I’m delving WAY too deeply into this, but I was thinking that Rick and Daryl ended up in that pit because of their own stupidity. They were having a petty argument, and it came blows. Then they accidentally rolled into a RANDOM. GINORMOUS pit. I mean, who put it there? And why didn’t either of them notice it? Probably because they were too busy punching one another.

So again, I feel like they fell in because of their own foolishness, and then had to claw their way out. Sounds a lot like what happened at Grady. Beth stabbed Dawn in the shoulder. By doing something foolish, she kinda got herself “killed.” And I do believe that afterward she clawed her way back from death. AND it had something to do with a walker horde, hence the hands reaching up for Rick and Daryl. Just felt like a really sympatico parallel to me.

Two things about the very end:

1)    Rick riding a white horse to go save the bridge. White horse equals Beth and the horse symbolism.

2)    Rick wanted to do something very dangerous (try to lead the walker horde away from the bridge) and Daryl told him not to. Rick didn't listen, so eventually Daryl relented. This is a very close parallel what happened at Grady. Daryl didn't stop Beth from hugging Noah, and because of that she was shot. Here, Daryl didn't stop Rick from doing something dangerous, and because of it. Rick was impaled. If he loses Rick now because of that, it's going to completely devastate Daryl.

Did I say two things? I meant three! (I actually wrote the above two first and then, re-watching, realized a third.)

3)    The white horse. It occurred to me that I had no idea where that white horse came from. It just showed up all of a sudden. I re-watched all the Rick and Daryl parts to figure out where the horse shows up from and finally understood that it came from the Carol/Saviors confrontation. When the guns start going off, we see it running away from the scene. It got scared and took off, ending up near Rick and Daryl. Okay, that explains where it came from. But it’s still a little convenient, no? And as far as Rick and Daryl are concerned, it basically just came out of nowhere, running out of the woods.

So my go-to response is that this must be symbolic. And we all know who the white horse represents, right? So I’d say this represents Beth suddenly appearing out of the woods…right when Rick heads off toward the walker horde.

Oh, but it gets even better than that. Also while re-watching the Rick/Daryl scenes (seriously give yourself permission to re-watch those scenes in this episode a hundred times) something else caught my eye.

Rick physically pulls Daryl up out of the pit, right? I noticed that when trying to do that, as Daryl is reaching up and they sort of miss hands several times, Rick keeps repeating, “You’re almost there. You’re almost there.

That struck me as a little odd. Not “we’re” almost there. “You’re” almost there. So think of it this way. If the pit with walkers at the bottom represent death, and Rick and Daryl getting out represents coming back to life, we have Rick saying to Daryl, “You’re almost there. You’re almost there.” We all know Daryl has emotionally been in the pit since he lost Beth in S5. The emotional pit where he believes all these negative things about letting people go and not honoring the dead.

So I feel like this is the writers telling us that symbolically, he’s finally going to make it out of the pit. And what shows up right after he does? The white horse. Randomly. From out of nowhere. 

And because Rick is involved; the one who says this line, helps Daryl out and rides off on the white horse, I feel like something about Rick is what will bring Daryl out of the pit. In other words, something about what Rick is about to will lead to Beth. Which will finally pull Daryl out of his 4-season emotional funk.

Man, I hope I’m right about this. ;D

It was also pointed out in my group that Rick's wound is in the side, which actually is a mirror of one of Christ's wounds. He was stabbed in the side before dying. And that's not the first time we've seen stigmata wounds on Rick. Remember, he impaled his hand in a crucifixion sort of way when he was fighting Winslow in S7. Just more evidence that this death will be a fake out and he'll be returning.

P.S. Sucks to be Father Gabriel. Poor guy.

I think that’s all I have for now. Given that today is Halloween, I can’t promise I’ll have a post for Thursday, but I do want to go over some things said on TTD. There were a lot of them this week and many of them were very important. So I’ll aim for that for Friday. Cheers!

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

[jestbee]

Ships that pass in the night (Chapter Sixteen)

Title: Ships that Pass in the Night (Chapter Sixteen)

Tags:  Alternate Timeline, AU, Slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers Words: 3.5k Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers. The catch? They’ve never met, and Phil doesn’t want them to Author’s Note: I blame @ineverhadmyinternetphase for the fact that this got started because I said if she posted her fic Missent Text that I would write some of this in return. Then @charlottekath made vegan cheese from scratch and put it in a pie with whiskers on it and well… how could I help but be inspired?

Also I'll level with you, I wanted to finish all of Ships and post it all on Xmas day but the next chapter is proving really difficult so I couldn't get it done. So… you can have this one.

Merry Christmas!!!

(also this is completely unbeta’d becuase I didn’t want to disturb my beta at the holidays) [AO3 Link]   [Tumblr Masterpost]  

The glass is still there the next morning. He shouldn't have expected it to be gone but there it is. Freaking out tends to do funny things to his brain, like he's viewing them all from a distance or it happened to someone else.

He doesn't know whether he's grateful for the potentially dangerous reminder that Dan had turned up at his flat, or not.

He keeps his promise early morning, setting the phone to ring on loudspeaker while he tries to clear up shards of glass from a mildly wet floor using the smallest dustpan and brush ever created.

He narrowly avoids cutting himself, but he does avoid it.

When PJ answers he's reminded that not everyone has taken to bed for a week and are consequently up really early. He's reminded that some people have normal sleep patterns where their thoughts don't keep them up late and wake them early, filled with a jumble of everything, everything, everything and how much of a mess it all is. The world has continued outside of his bubble and that feels unwelcome, somehow.

"Hello?" PJ's voice croaks.

"Peej," he says, jostling the plastic bag and the brush and the dustpan and all of it threatening to end up back all over the floor anyway.

"What the hell, Phil? It's eight in the morning."

"I'm er…" He ties the top of the bag and sits fully down on the floor, facing the phone, legs crossed, still talking into the loudspeaker because it's nice to have noise in his flat. Sort of. "Calling."

"I know that."

"No I mean… you know. Calling. I need…"

He hears the rustle of bedsheets and he feels, for a moment, that sinking sensation of guilt that always comes when he's burdening someone with all of his mess. When he's this close to letting it spill over he feels the urge to build that wall back up, to keep everyone at arm's length for their own good. But this will never be solved if he does, and he needs to somehow sort out the jumble of thoughts and confusion and mistakes he's made over the past few days. Besides, he'd made a promise. And on this occasion that's enough to make him take action. Once upon a time it might not have been.

He's acutely aware that may mean he's gotten better, that he's somehow stronger than last time but he doesn't exactly want to test that theory.

What is it they said? There's strength in asking for help, too.

"I'm here," PJ says, louder, clearer, like he's stepped into a different room. Gotten out of bed probably.

Phil sighs, picks up the phone. He's still on the floor, legs crossed in the middle of his hallway but he turns off the loudspeaker and presses the phone to his ear.

"I don't know how to… ugh. This is so stupid honestly."

"What happened?"

Phil doesn't know where to start, the words spin away from him. How does he explain the horrible sinking feeling he'd felt when Cat and Tyler said what they said, the drag of fear when Dan had turned up at his door. How does he describe the suspended hope of something. Something. It's carved out of the solid weight of his uncertainty. He wants to believe, can feel where the belief would fit in his chest, but it hurts. It lays heavy, thick, weighted and uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to carry hope, it's nothing like he's used to.

He can't even find the words to confess that he's been hiding for a week.

"I haven't been in touch lately," PJ says, his voice is kind of muffled as if from behind his fingers and Phil can imagine the guilty expression on his face, like him texting could have at all prevented whatever the hell it is Phil is going through.

"I… it wouldn't have… mattered. If you had. I'm--"

He stops, because he's so lost in it all he couldn't even define what he was. What word exists for this? Sad? Confused? Hopeless? Nothing feels right, maybe it's all of that, or none of it. Explaining it has always been the hard part. Feeling it… feeling this way has never been difficult. He manages that with ease.

"Coffee," PJ decides for him, not waiting anywhere near long enough for Phil to come up with right words. "I can come there."

"I need to go outside," Phil says, staring forlornly at the tied up bag of glass, hazard now contained but not yet disposed of.

He doesn't want to go outside. He wants to stay where it's safe and familiar but, coping mechanisms aren't always productive.

"We can do that, Starbucks?"

Phil thinks of Dan pressed up close to him on a couch, thigh pressed to thigh in a steam cloud of caramel-flavoured caffeine. "No, um, the other place? The one with the crappy sandwiches?"

"I know which one you mean," PJ says, "I can be there in an hour?"

"Yes. Please."

Something on his voice must sound desperate because PJ is quick to follow it up with a, "Everything will be okay. I'll be there soon."

Phil is the one to hang up once they've said goodbye, like PJ is afraid to terminate the call if Phil still needs him. Phil suspects PJ would stay on the phone with him the full hour it takes them to get ready to meet in person if needs be. He's a good friend like that.

-

He doesn't get his usual order when he gets there. He picks a plain coffee and adds a little milk and sugar and huddles in a corner seat until PJ gets there. He's flushed a little red when he does get here, like he's run all the way and Phil is mildly guilty that he's messed up his day already.

"Hey," PJ says, coming straight to the table before ordering his drink.

"Hey."

PJ is hovering. He's doing that thing where he really wants to ask if Phil is okay but he knows that might be the worst question in the world to ask right now. Phil knows it isn't fair, he hates doing this to people because he can't expect them to act in all the right ways. But PJ has always tried so hard, and everything he does is with the best intentions but all the expression on his face is doing is making Phil's stomach twist up more and more with the overwhelming shame of having to go through this time and time again.

"I'm okay," Phil says, answering before PJ asks because he can at least offer him that, "Go get coffee."

PJ looks a little uncertain for a second but he does drop his bag, turn around and go to get coffee.

Phil busies himself with his phone but he can feel PJ staring him out of the corner of his eye, tracking him even as he waits for his coffee to be made.

Once he's back in the seat opposite him, Phil has to put down his phone and look at him directly.

"What happened this morning?" PJ asks.

"Not this morning," Phil says, clearing his throat. "It was… ah… a few days ago."

PJ nods curtly but his eyes narrow. "You didn't call a few days ago."

"No."

"Have you spoken to anyone since then?"

Phil shakes his head.

PJ sighs, like he wants to say something more. Admonish Phil maybe, insist that he should have called? He knows it isn't that easy.

"So what happened a few days ago?"

"Um…"

Phil takes a sip of his coffee and is surprised to find his hands are shaking slightly.

"It's okay," PJ says, "Take your time."

Take his time. Phil is always taking his time and stumbling over everything and he really needs to get out of the habit of running away all the time. He'd called PJ, hadn't he? He'd been the one to ask for this meeting, because he knows he needs help sometimes. He needs to learn how to ask for it better, and how to accept it when it's being offered.

"I went to a party with Dan."

"What did he do?"

PJ looks mad. He's put his mug back down on the table and he's sat straight up, poised for action, as though he would spring right over to Dan's flat and give him hell if Phil so much as implied he'd done anything wrong.

"He didn't… well, I'm not sure if he… it might all be in my head. Or it might not. It might all be completely true."

"Okay… what might?"

Phil shuffles down in his seat, his shoulders shrugged almost up to his ears, trying to make himself smaller. He wants to block all of this out but it isn't helping, hasn't helped so far, so he might as well give this a try.

"Some people at the party implied that Dan… that he was only... f-friends with me to boost his YouTube career."

"Friends?"

Phil looks down into his coffee and watches the light glint off the still top of it. It ripples as PJ leans forward in his seat and bangs the table.

"Phil… did you… are you and Dan…"

Phil nods his head, still not looking at him. "We… after the Google thing. I... "

PJ doesn't say anything. Maybe he has no words for how stupid Phil has been, or maybe he's just letting Phil find his own way around all of this. Either way, Phil has to look up at him finally to try and navigate the conversation.

"It was… Peej it wasn't like, well it wasn't like anything else. I know, I know, I don't want to go into detail, I know you don't want to hear it but… it had me believing it. It was different. It was… good."

It was good. The rarity of it, how special it had felt, like it wasn't something thrown away, not just a singular moment in time they'd both forget afterwards. It was something else. But then it wasn't.

"But then afterwards?"

"Then there was the party and people saying things and… I just don't know what to believe. How can I trust anything he says?"

"You just have to look at everything, Phil. You can't judge it based on this one tiny incident… I know I was cautious too. I didn't want to see you get hurt."

Phil remembers. He remembers how unsure PJ had been when they'd played games at his house, how he'd looked scared and unsure on Phil's behalf when they'd left Google.

"But it wasn't because I thought Dan wasn't serious." he continues, "It was only because I thought… well, I didn't know if you'd want to be in another… situation with a YouTuber."

Phil bites down on his bottom lip hard, leaving teeth prints in it.

"I thought so too… I mean, I don't want to be. I don't." Phil shakes his head, "at least I don't think so."

"Phil."

"Yeah?"

"Do you… honestly now… do you really think Dan is faking all of that? Could he have? After everything you've told me…And well, after everything he's been out there doing… doesn't that prove something to you?"

Phil doesn't know. Nothing makes sense any more. He wants PJ to tell him want to do, to give him the answer to every question that he has but he knows that's not how it works.

"He came to my house yesterday."

PJ nods, "He did? What did he want?"

"Mostly to tell me off, maybe. But I also accused him of everything. He denied it of course. He said the reason he tweets and stuff so much is because… well, not for the reason I thought."

"You were mad at him about the tweeting?"

Phil nods, "Yeah. I think… well it's one of the main reasons why I'm inclined to believe he's full of shit."

PJ frowns. He looks so confused, lines appears on his forehead, but Phil really doesn't understand why.

"You know," he clarifies, "He tweets whenever we do anything and he's always replying to people and… did you know there's a ship name now? It's ridiculous. It's just Phan. It doesn't even work out loud, like you have to write it down."

"But…"

"No, I know." Phil says, "That doesn't prove anything. But I guess I just thought that he was showing off, using my name for views."

"For views?" PJ says, that perplexed look still on his face, skin between his brows all bunched up. "But… Phil, what he's been doing on Twitter isn't helping him any. If anything, there are some people who think responding to all of Charlie's drama actually makes him look really petty."

Phil's coffee sloshes over the side of his cup as he sits up quickly, shuffling to the edge of his seat and bumping the table in the process. There is a small creeping puddle of coffee on the wooden table top, seeping towards the edge of it, threatening to drip onto his jeans.

"What Charlie drama?"

PJ brushes his hair out of his face. It's a little wild this morning, a huge mass of waves sitting fluffy and huge around his face. It's always a little crazy but he's been in a rush this morning, Phil knows, so it is quite untamed.

"You… oh God."

"What?"

"You really don't know."

"Peej… what the hell are you talking about?"

The coffee puddle has spread and Phil has to lean over, pluck the haphazard pile of napkins from this coffee tray and swipe the edge of the table. All the while, PJ is sat with his mouth parted, tongue rolled forward to his front teeth as if trying to find the words to say.

"Jesus Phil, I mean I don't know if I should be the one to… if you don't know."

"Tell me!" Phil says, his voice a little louder than he intends so that the people at the next table look up at him. He shoots them an apologetic look and lowers his voice, "please. Look… just tell me what's going on. I'm so confused. I need to make sense of it all and if you know something--"

"Ok, ok." PJ rubs the back of his neck with one hand, "Let me just… I need to figure out where to start."

"Okay."

Phil sits back in his chair, takes his mug with him so that it is cradled between his hands.

"Do you have Charlie blocked on Twitter?"

That comes out of nowhere. Phil hasn't thought about that in a while but he remembers sitting on his hospital bed, bag packed and finally back in his own clothes. He remembers staring at his phone as he waited for his parents to get there and deciding to finally put an end to it, resolving to start over.

"Yes."

"Okay. Good. I mean… That'll be why you haven't…" he sighs, "I guess I just thought Dan might have mentioned it."

Phil feels his palms go sweaty around the cup. He isn't sure if it's the heat of the ceramic or the mention of Charlie's name and the inference that he's back in his life, causing trouble.

"Mentioned what?"

He feels sick. The bottom of his stomach drops out and it's like he's dangling over a precipice, seconds away from disaster.

"Right." PJ picks up his cup, blows out over the top of it to cool it slightly, but he doesn't take a sip. "Charlie has been on Twitter. I guess he saw interactions between you and Dan and… well, he's been…"

PJ trails off and instead digs his phone out of this pocket. He taps around on it for a while before passing it over to Phil. Phil puts down his cup, wraps his fingers around PJ's phone and brings it close to his face.

He can barely look at first. Just a glimpse of that familiar username and a slightly updated profile picture is enough to make his chest feel tight and his breathing snag in his chest. He has to do this, he needs to see.

danisnotonfire: OMG senpai noticed me?!?!

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire don't waste your time

Right from the beginning. It's all the way back to the beginning, to the point where Phil first engaged with Dan on Twitter.

He can't breathe, it's too much. But he can't stop, his thumb moves up the screen, scrolling down to see more and more, every time they've interacted, every time they mentioned each other, he's there.

danisnotonfire: #phanimalfacts is trending @AmazingPhil what have we done?

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire good luck, we all know he likes to hide everything, don't be surprised if it doesn't last long

Charlie is still up to his old lies, still touting that old story out. How long has this been going on? Is it just Dan, or does he still drag it all out at regular intervals? Phil can't escape it. He's tried.

He wanted to start over, to put all of this behind him, to stop it all in its tracks. That's why he'd blocked Charlie in the first place.

But it hasn't had any effect at all. Charlie is still out there, never letting it die, never letting him be free of it.

danisnotonfire: your fave nerdy british boys met irl finally are you hyped? @AmazingPhil

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire seriously, get out while you still can, he's not a nice person

He'd warned him off. Phil closes his eyes for a second before reading onwards, he can't do this. He doesn't want to see it.

But his thumb moves up anyway, and soon, it isn't just Charlie tweeting at Dan.

danisnotonfire: @AmazingPhil tweeting is not resting dont make me confiscate your phone

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire did he tell you how I used to take care of him when he was ill?

danisnotonfire: what is it you are getting out of this exactly?

He hadn't sent it while he was with Phil. It was afterwards, when he went home.

Charlieskies: just looking out for you mate, you should learn from my experience. I know what he's like

danisnotonfire: jealousy doesn't become you

danisnotonfire: and I'm not your mate

Charlieskies: no need to be hostile

danisnotonfire: you haven't seen hostility yet i care about him so if you carry on i'll show you hostile

Phil lets the phone fall to the table. It clatters on the wood and he drops his forehead into his palms. They are warm, slightly clammy, he sucks in a breath and tries to steady himself.

There's more, Dan fighting his corner, telling Charlie to stop. Phil can't look at any more

"He's been…"

"Yeah."

"And Dan…"

"Hm."

"Shit."

If PJ is surprised by the language he doesn't let on. Phil drags his fingers down his face and looks up.

"Why?"

PJ shrugs. "I don't know. But… Well, he wouldn't be doing all of this if… if any of what you're so scared of was true."

Phil looks at it from that angle. It's true. Dan going off on Twitter isn't doing him any favours so why is he doing it? What would be the point? Unless…

"You think he's being genuine."

"I've only met the guy a few times, so I'm not going to sit here and tell you that he definitely is. But Phil… the way he looks at you. The way you are with each other. That's not fake."

Phil looks down at the phone again, screen faded to black. He slides it back over the table. He's seen enough.

"And he knows about... " he swallows. "Charlie."

PJ cocks his head. "He's been there since the beginning Phil. He's watched your channel and commented on everything you've ever done. Did you think he missed it?"

"No… just… he's never said anything. About… well like everyone had an opinion on it didn't they? Whether they believed him. Dan has never said…"

"Do you think he would? If you didn't bring it up?"

"I don't know."

He thinks about them sharing secrets. He think about Dan coming out and Phil telling him about his anxiety. He hasn't shared everything. Not even close. But Dan has never pushed him to, not once.

PJ picks up the phone and slides it back in to his pocket. "I think he cares about you Phil. I think he saw it all and he cares about you anyway. But maybe you owe him the bigger story… the bits everyone didn't see."

Phil shakes his head automatically because part of his whole starting over routine was vowing never to talk about it. He's made that final pact with himself to stay closed off from it all, to shove it all down and try and pretend it didn't happen. It was the only way he could move on.

But that isn't working any more. Still, the idea of telling Dan everything… it's scary.

"I need to talk to him, huh?"

"Yeah… I think you do."

#ao3 #dan and phil #fanfic #dnp #fanfiction #my fics #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #ships that pass in the night #phanfic au #myfics #phandom

[royalblurryfacedbastard]

Hey guys! My single I Hate My Brain is available on all streaming services and online stores rn! Been out since November 9th. I also recently uploaded a new cover on my YouTube channel @ Casper Chesney.

Vent time! Cw for breakups, mentions of trauma and death

---

I'm planning on making more music and releasing stuff in the near future, but right now I'm feeling kind of just... Sad and unmotivated. I cut ties with my ex yesterday because I just couldn't deal with feeling hurt anymore. He hasn't done anything really, but it's hurt me a lot trying to move on only to have everything fall back down on me whenever he's mentioned his other ex or things in general that have hurt me. And yesterday he mentioned something that was kind of the last straw I guess even though I am happy he's taken that step towards moving on from past stuff. It's hard though of course, cuz I've grown so used to having him in my life and now there's just me. And I'm alone again, even if I've got my friends and all.

Towards the end of our relationship I had a lot of anxiety attacks cuz I was so scared of losing him. I worked on myself extremely hard because I knew that me being too clingy was probably one of the reasons his feelings faded, and well, after a week of that and a week of me making so much progress with my mental health, we broke up. I'd already had a full-on anxiety attack the week before when we almost broke up, but that night it was less and more bad at the same time really.

A thing I've had to learn is that if you feel like or believe that someone is your soulmate and the love of your life, if you genuinely look at someone you're with and think "I wanna spend the rest at of my life with this person" and you've felt the sense of comfort and calm in that, if it ends you're gonna feel like you're dying. Just genuinely dying. I had moments after we broke up where I sat on my bed crying and I almost expected to stop breathing sometimes, like I just expected to disappear and cease to be. And that's how it felt a lot.

I pushed myself to focus intensely on other things for a long while afterwards, I pursued music to 150% and I still do every day one way or the other, but in the beginning it was just a distraction. Cuz I know full well that at the time I was trying to convince myself and him that I was done and moving on and over it, mostly so he wouldn't feel bad because he's always felt terrible for accidentally hurting me or saying stuff that's made me upset.

It's only now that I've kinda come more to terms with everything but yesterday I decided to just leave, because it doesn't help me to keep talking to him. It holds me back from moving on, it gives me anxiety cuz I worry he doesn't tell me when he's down or sad or upset cuz I'm the one who's been sad a lot, and it just... Doesn't go anywhere. I think a big part of me held on in hopes we could be together again someday or that he'd realize how much I meant to him or something like that. And well, who could blame me? He was a good boyfriend who checked up on me and talked to me and we made each other laugh and he's one of the only people who's seen my face and my body without me trying to look skinnier or prettier and he still called me cute and beautiful. I don't know a single person who wouldn't fight tooth and nail to keep a person like that by their side. Just somebody to grow with, somebody to figure shit out with, someone to lean on and have them lean on you when either needs it. A team member. Someone who supports your passions and goals and dreams and makes you realize your worth.

And well. I'd like to believe that I did right tooth and nail. I gave it my all, I loved him more than anyone I've ever loved, and it didn't work out. And that hurts more than anything I've felt before. Like, I've struggled with mental health issues and depression for more than half my life, and yet that emptiness and that pain isn't even similar to this.

It's not anyone's fault though. We both made mistakes in our relationship and all those small mistakes led up to it ending. And I do believe it was meant to happen and meant to end, because even if I'm pissed at the universe and disappointed and so deeply deeply hurt, there's a lesson in it.

The way I'm trying to see things is people are either meant to stay or they come into your life to teach you something and push you on your way. And he came into my life to push me on my way, and now I'm on my way. It's just that I hoped he could stay and be a part of my life, but that didn't work out because it held me back and hurt me. Both during and after the relationship.

I have songs record and work on and things to do. I don't need to strain or overwork myself because I need to take care of myself as well and work through my trauma that affects me on the daily and my issues, but yeah. Got songs to sing, words to write.

I'll probably be posting more personal stuff on here from now on cuz while I don't use Tumblr as much, this is where I first started out and it's still a safe space for me. I mean, I journal every single day and that's helped me a lot, but I've also realized that if I don't get my thoughts out where someone can respond it stays inside me and causes me so much anxiety and hurt. I kinda doubt that anyone's really gonna read these personal posts but yeah. I'm back, I guess?

#personalstuff

[lincoln--22]

Love, You’re Everything to Me (Analogical)

Hey guys! Back at it again with another Analogical fic! This one was, again, helped by @revyourmentalenginesplease (also known as @prinxietyhell), and it was also inspired in part by @thebrightsun and her story, “Only I’ll Love You.” It’s amazingly well written, but be warned, it has severe emotional abuse and manipulation, read it at your own caution. I basically wanted to see what would happen if Anxiety started to read some fanfic and how he would deal with the ones where he’s seen as the “bad guy.” For this reason, and because it does have some pretty bad self deprecating thoughts from Anxiety, I’m placing the fic under a Read More. However, it does have a happy ending!

Warnings: Anxiety attack, self depreciating thoughts, sad Anxiety, angst.

Logic walked into the common room after a while of reading in order to get some food, but he stopped when he saw Anxiety sitting on the couch and reading something on his phone. So, deciding to take a detour, he wrapped his arms around the other from behind and peered over his shoulder. It appeared that Anxiety was reading a fanfiction of himself and Logic, and Logic chuckled a bit.

“Whatcha reading?” He asked, and was slightly surprised by the way his lover jumped and nearly threw the phone across the room. It landed with a sharp smack against the wall and Logic winced, hoping it hadn’t broken.

“Nothing.” Anxiety replied quickly, crossing his arms over his chest, and Logic raised an eyebrow, not believing the other darker trait for a moment. For one, he had replied much too quickly, almost snapping at Logic, and, while he hadn’t lost his short temper while being with the self proclaimed genius, he hadn’t snapped that harshly since they’d gotten together. So, Logic did the only thing he could think to do. He made his way over to sit next to Anxiety and put an arm around his shoulder, and he noted how tense the other was.

“Anx, please.” He said quietly, and he was shocked to see tears shining in the other’s eyes when he raised his head up to look at Logic, and without thinking, he pulled the other into a hug. Now, they’d had a few hugs since they had become a couple, usually with Anxiety initiating them, or Logic when the other seemed to be feeling down, so Logic had come to expect different reactions depending on the circumstance. Sometimes Anxiety would pull away, or lean in and hug back, or just stand there and let himself be hugged, while Logic normally melted into the other. However, he had never experienced Anxiety roughly shoving him away and standing to get as much distance between the two of them as possible.

He stared at Anxiety in shock as the darker trait began to pace around the common room, pulling at his hair and shaking. Anxiety seemed to be wrestling with himself, and Logic grew concerned, his eyes darting over to the phone. What had he read? However, he snapped his eyes back to his lover when Anxiety let out a choked sob and fell to his knees on the ground, and Logic was in front of him in a flash, making sure not to touch him. He started thinking about what he could possibly do to calm the other down, his mind racing, when Anxiety started to speak.

“I-I’m so s-sorry…” Anxiety sobbed, and Logic’s mind reeled. What could the other be apologizing for? Before he could ask what the other meant, Anxiety continued, “You must feel so trapped in a relationship with me, I’m nothing but an abusive boyfriend who makes you think so badly of yourself a-and-” Anxiety sobbed harshly, curling himself into a ball, and Logic’s heart broke.

“Anxiety, what are you talking about? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” Logic cried, unable to believe what the other was saying, but Anxiety just shook his head, another sob coming up, and Logic hesitantly asked, “Is it okay to touch-”

“NO!” Anxiety yelled, so loud that it made Logic flinch back in shock, and he went into another round of hysteria, grabbing at his hair and pulling at it sharply. “I’m such an idiot, such an idiot, and I’m never gonna be good for anyone, especially not you, so just… please, don’t… don’t come any closer, please.” He whimpered, and Logic nodded, straightening himself up.

“I’m not going to leave you, Anxiety, but I won’t come any closer if that’s what you want. What’s going on, please, tell me.” Logic pleaded, at a loss for what to do, and he hated that. He hated not knowing what to do, it made him feel weak, useless, like he had both of his hands tied behind his back, or, possibly worse, like the ability to speak had been ripped from him. But he couldn’t dwell on that, not now. He had to make sure that Anxiety knew that he wasn’t going anywhere, and, more importantly, that he knew that Logic loved him.

“I-I… I was reading a fanfiction about you a-and m-me and…” Anxiety started, hiccuping in between sobs, staring at Logic, but also through him, as if Logic wasn’t even there at all.

Anxiety’s POV

Hmmm, I wonder what this is about. Anxiety thought to himself, clicking on the read more and not heeding the warnings posted on the beginning of the fic. He’d been on a pretty sad fanfiction binge today, one more couldn’t hurt.

However, as he read the poison that the fictional him was spewing at his beloved Logic, he couldn’t help but let his eyes widen, his thumb paused over the phone, unmoving. It was a rather short fic, enough to fit the phone, and he kept going over the words, suddenly wondering if he had been acting that way towards Logic. He did get rather possessive over the other when he felt that Logic was paying more attention to Morality, or, God-forbid, Prince.

He thought about the one time where he had belittled Logic, shortly after them getting together, and found some of the words in the story mirroring the ones he had said, and he felt tears start to prick his eyes, his head swimming with negative thoughts. He hadn’t meant to be so mean, he’d just been worried because Logic had been overworking himself. Or, at least that’s what he’d told Logic afterwards. What he’d told himself. What if Logic didn’t want to be in a relationship with him, what if he felt trapped?

“Whatcha reading?” A very familiar voice asked in his ear, and before he could give it any rational thought, he chucked the phone as hard as he could and crossed his arms over his chest in defense. Hopefully, Logic hadn’t seen what he’d been reading. Hopefully he didn’t know how much of a monster he was.

He, again, didn’t hear the other move around the couch, too wrapped up in the thought of I’m a monster, I’m hurting Logic, I’m no good for him, I’m no good for anyo-

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt Logic wrap an arm around his shoulder and he tensed, hearing him ask something but not knowing what to say. He looked up at Logic, his vision blurred by the tears threatening to spill over his cheeks, and he felt awful because why did he have the right to cry? He’d done nothing but hurt the other, hurt everyone around him because he was such a monster--

He was broken out of his thoughts for a third time when Logic pulled him into a hug, and, while he normally would have hugged him back, he couldn’t bear the thought of forcing Logic to do anything more, even if it was initiating a simple hug, so he shoved the other away and stood, pacing and clawing at his hair to try and ground himself. He started mumbling to himself before letting out a sob and his knees gave out from under him. Shaking and crying, Anxiety began to let the other know how sorry he was, and he could distantly hear the other kneeling in front of him, and it was like a dam broke inside of him.

“I-I’m so s-sorry…” He sobbed, rocking back and forth on his heels, and he continued in a rush, “you must feel so trapped in a relationship with me, I-I’m nothing but an abusive boyfriend who makes you think so badly of yourself a-and-” He broke himself off with a harsh sob, curling in on himself, and that’s when Logic finally spoke.

“Anxiety, what are you talking about?” He demanded, sounding stupefied, and Anxiety just shook his head. Before he could respond, though, Logic pressed on. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Can I touch you?” He asked gently, and Anxiety panicked, not wanting to be touched.

“NO!” He shouted as loudly as he could, trying to get the message across, and it was a second too late for him to register that he’d been too loud when Logic flinched away from him. He sobbed and pulled at his hair, little unhappy breaths leaving his throat. “I’m such an idiot, such an idiot, and I’m never gonna be good for anyone, especially not you, so just… please, don’t… don’t come any closer, please.” He begged, refusing to look up. He listened as Logic told him that he wasn’t going to leave, which made him laugh to himself because everybody left him, he wasn’t worth the time or effort. He finally looked up when Logic asked him a question, and he had to run it over in his head a few times to process it.

Sighing, he looked up and started to tell Logic what he’d been reading, feeling like he wasn’t currently in his own body, and he was distantly aware of Logic’s face growing sour. Anxiety told Logic everything, from the words being said to his own poisonous thoughts, and Logic’s face fell. Finally, after all was said and there was nothing more to be relayed, they fell into silence. Only this time, it didn’t feel like the crushing, pressing silence that usually persisted after he had an attack. No, this one was more comfortable. Maybe because he wasn’t alone this time?

Suddenly, he looked up when he heard Logic clearing his throat, and he seemed incredibly nervous. He looked down at the floor before peering up at Anxiety over his glasses, and Anxiety distantly thought that he looked adorable like that. Logic opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing and seeming to try and gather up his courage, before he started to sing.

“Oh, Ms Believer, my pretty sleeper, your twisted mind is like snow on the road.” Anxiety’s eyes widened as he realized the song as one of his favorites, “O, Ms Believer” from 21 Pilots. He hadn’t heard the other sing much, but when he let the words flow out, it was like an angel singing to him. “Your shaking shoulders prove that it’s colder inside your head than the winter of dead.” Logic gave him a small smile, and Anxiety couldn’t help but give a rueful smile back. How true these lyrics were ringing. “I will tell you ‘I love you’ but the muffs on your ears, will cater your fears.” How often had he told Logic that he still felt unworthy of love, no matter how many times Logic had tried to assure him that he loved him?

Anxiety joined in on the next verse, smiling at Logic warmly and starting to feel the negative thoughts begin to slowly ease. “My nose and feet are running as we start to travel through snow, together we go.” Logic mirrored his smile and started to inch forward, and they continued the rest of the song like that, until Anxiety found himself in Logic’s warm arms, feeling so safe and protected. Suddenly, Logic began to hum again, and Anxiety pulled away to look him in the eye, tears gathering in his eyes as he smiled widely.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be. Take my hand, take my whole life too, ‘cause I can’t help falling in love with you.” Logic sang softly, kissing Anxiety’s forehead, and Anxiety, not being able to help it, tackled the other to the floor and started kissing all over his face, causing Logic to laugh and try to squirm away. Anxiety kept murmuring ‘thank you’ over and over again, and Logic gave him the most blinding smile ever.

“Are you feeling better now?” Logic asked, after Anxiety had calmed down and now they were cuddled up on the couch, Anxiety’s head resting on Logic’s chest, and Anxiety simply hummed, listening to the beating of Logic’s heart, feeling at ease with the world. Looking up at Logic and catching the other smiling down at him, he smiled too, feeling like as long as he had Logic by his side, he could do anything.

“Us against the world.” He said to himself quietly, and Logic chuckled, placing another kiss to the top of his head.

“Us against the world indeed, my love.” Logic said, and in that moment, everything was good.

#anxiety attack #mentions of abuse #self deprecating thoughts #anxiety sanders #logic sanders #Analogical #fanfiction #my writing #Casey writes #angst

[party-hard-or-die]

Where Danes Butt Heads (Politely) With Their Leaders

ALLINGE, Denmark — For four days a year in June, Danes like to pretend there are no boundaries between them.

They gather for Folkemodet, a political festival where the prime minister, chief executives of top companies and other respected leaders remove their ties and stilettos and mingle with members of the public on the remote island of Bornholm in the Baltic Sea.

Here, the young, the old and the in-betweens have frank debates about the state of their democracy, holding forth over hot dogs and beer, ducking in and out of tents to hear speeches on issues both profound and personal, and, perhaps, helping to find solutions to problems in their society.

Over four days recently, 110,000 people descended on the postcard-perfect island town of Allinge, with its two-story houses with red tile roofs, stone hedges and gardens with fruit trees and roses.

The gathering is held far from Copenhagen, the capital, to incubate the casual meetings between politicians and their constituents. Danes say that Folkemodet disconnects the media filter between people in power and the rest of the populace, shifting the political debate from “likes” on social media to the spoken word and face-to-face encounters.

The first test of Folkemodet is getting there. To travel to Bornholm (365 square miles; population 40,000), one has to head to the southern tip of Sweden, take a ferry to the island and drive for a half-hour to Allinge on winding roads that cut through villages with stone churches and green fields billowing in the sea breeze.

One ferry to the island was jam-packed with Folkemodet participants. Students carrying backpacks were crammed in with the secretary general of the Danish branch of Amnesty International, the head of the largest union for teachers — dressed in Lycra, having hopped off his bicycle — and a former pornography star.

“It’s difficult to get here, and once you do, it’s sneakers, jeans, sandals and draft beer,” Margrethe Vestager, the European Union commissioner for competition, said later in a tent where she was speaking. (She, too, was wearing jeans and sneakers.) “It makes for an informal atmosphere, because everybody overcame the same barriers,” she said.

The first Folkemodet, held in 2011 around the historical port of Allinge, drew about 10,000 people. (It was inspired by a similar event in Sweden.) But the festival became bigger and more popular over the years. This year, every available piece of land and every ship in port was used to host 3,000 events.

On opening day, a group of activists made a bold statement: They strolled through the area in front of the main stage in black niqabs to protest a recent push to ban the full Islamic veil. Members said they were naked underneath the garments, clearly a ploy to rattle the police should they try to intervene. The police didn’t.

Tents were everywhere, and the Conservative Party’s tent was equipped with its own draft beer supply. When the ministers for justice and integration showed up, a man took the opportunity to denounce the proposed burqa ban, arguing that it harmed Denmark’s reputation. The audience applauded, but the ministers deflected the issue.

When I cornered the man afterward, he said that his name was Kumar Maini and that he was a Dane of Indian origin. He praised Folkemodet as an event that “couldn’t happen anywhere else in the world.” But he said the law to remove burqas and niqabs from the few Danish Muslims who wear them in public should be scrapped.

“We shouldn’t try to straighten up everybody else so we end up believing the same, eating the same and doing the same. That would be dead boring,” he said.

At Folkemodet, there’s an unwritten rule: Questions can bite, but the overall atmosphere shouldn’t. The language is far removed from the vitriol permeating social media. So members of the public can challenge any politician who shows up.

“That’s what’s so unique here,” said Hans Helgren, an off-duty police officer who got to question the minister of justice on crime prevention. “Normally, I would never meet him. He’s packed away in Parliament behind so many people.”

The C.E.O. of the scandal-hit Danske Bank found himself in the hot seat when he attended an open-mic event to answer “anything.”

Danske Bank had made headlines recently when a newspaper revealed that the bank had allowed Russian money laundering and then had failed to alert the authorities immediately when senior management discovered the misconduct. (Danes pay some of the world’s highest taxes to sustain their welfare state and have little tolerance for tax evasion and disrespect for rules.)

A client of the bank, Lars Prahm, raised his hand to politely but insistently ask Thomas F. Borgen, the bank’s C.E.O., about the money laundering. “It’s difficult to understand why it took so long for you to react. Can you explain that?” asked Mr. Prahm.

Mr. Borgen admitted that the bank should have done more: “We took a year and a half. We should have been faster.”

But the crowd wasn’t done, peppering him with more queries: Did you learn any humility from the financial crisis? Why didn’t the bank follow its own ethics guidelines? Are you the right man for the job?

The most popular topics this year were health, democracy and youth, according to a survey by Radius, the communications firm behind the yearly poll of Folkemodet topics. But immigration — the one issue that for more than 20 years has decided elections and profoundly changed Denmark’s international image — didn’t even make the Top 20.

“That doesn’t match how the political debate normally is,” said Asbjorn Haugstrup, chief executive of Radius. “My thesis is that Bornholm is a feel-good event. We drink draft beer with people we disagree with,” he said. “The debate about foreigners is too harsh. It doesn’t fit here.”

But over a meal of red curry, a Danish structural engineer said he was very curious about Islam. The engineer, sitting at a large table with food from a street wagon run by a Michelin-star restaurant from Copenhagen, said he discussed Islam “a lot” with a colleague from Afghanistan. At Folkemodet, he had taken the opportunity to learn more from Muslims dressed in T-shirts that said, “Ask a Muslim.”

In a survey of last year’s Folkemodet, 82 percent of the participants said they had gained new knowledge on political issues; 62 percent said that the festival had inspired them to become more active in politics.

Amid Denmark’s homogeneity, the festival provided a safe space to hash out differences. In one tent, 40 people listened to a judge, a lawyer and an IBM representative explore the pros and cons of having robots support or even supplement judges in the courtroom.

In another, about 100 people followed an emotional and sometimes good-humored debate on a potential age limit on male circumcision. The participants were a rabbi, a Muslim member of Parliament and a former porn star.

Lillan Kempf, a doctor who had traveled seven hours to get here, said that at Folkemodet she got a chance to share deep concerns about her hospital’s psychiatric ward with a member of Parliament. Money’s being wasted, she says.

“He agreed with what I said — that was great,” she said. “It’s so important that they hear what’s moving among the people.”

Her husband, Richard Kristensen, called Folkemodet “a fun fair” of “something you hate and something you love:” lots of talking about politics plus live music, comedy and plenty of cute towns and artisan workshops to get away from all the talking.

“People wouldn’t come if it was only about politics,” he declared.

The post Where Danes Butt Heads (Politely) With Their Leaders appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2MSjXqj via Breaking News

#News Headlines #News Update #Sports Update #Business Update #World The News

[dani-qrt]

Where Danes Butt Heads (Politely) With Their Leaders

ALLINGE, Denmark — For four days a year in June, Danes like to pretend there are no boundaries between them.

They gather for Folkemodet, a political festival where the prime minister, chief executives of top companies and other respected leaders remove their ties and stilettos and mingle with members of the public on the remote island of Bornholm in the Baltic Sea.

Here, the young, the old and the in-betweens have frank debates about the state of their democracy, holding forth over hot dogs and beer, ducking in and out of tents to hear speeches on issues both profound and personal, and, perhaps, helping to find solutions to problems in their society.

Over four days recently, 110,000 people descended on the postcard-perfect island town of Allinge, with its two-story houses with red tile roofs, stone hedges and gardens with fruit trees and roses.

The gathering is held far from Copenhagen, the capital, to incubate the casual meetings between politicians and their constituents. Danes say that Folkemodet disconnects the media filter between people in power and the rest of the populace, shifting the political debate from “likes” on social media to the spoken word and face-to-face encounters.

The first test of Folkemodet is getting there. To travel to Bornholm (365 square miles; population 40,000), one has to head to the southern tip of Sweden, take a ferry to the island and drive for a half-hour to Allinge on winding roads that cut through villages with stone churches and green fields billowing in the sea breeze.

One ferry to the island was jam-packed with Folkemodet participants. Students carrying backpacks were crammed in with the secretary general of the Danish branch of Amnesty International, the head of the largest union for teachers — dressed in Lycra, having hopped off his bicycle — and a former pornography star.

“It’s difficult to get here, and once you do, it’s sneakers, jeans, sandals and draft beer,” Margrethe Vestager, the European Union commissioner for competition, said later in a tent where she was speaking. (She, too, was wearing jeans and sneakers.) “It makes for an informal atmosphere, because everybody overcame the same barriers,” she said.

The first Folkemodet, held in 2011 around the historical port of Allinge, drew about 10,000 people. (It was inspired by a similar event in Sweden.) But the festival became bigger and more popular over the years. This year, every available piece of land and every ship in port was used to host 3,000 events.

On opening day, a group of activists made a bold statement: They strolled through the area in front of the main stage in black niqabs to protest a recent push to ban the full Islamic veil. Members said they were naked underneath the garments, clearly a ploy to rattle the police should they try to intervene. The police didn’t.

Tents were everywhere, and the Conservative Party’s tent was equipped with its own draft beer supply. When the ministers for justice and integration showed up, a man took the opportunity to denounce the proposed burqa ban, arguing that it harmed Denmark’s reputation. The audience applauded, but the ministers deflected the issue.

When I cornered the man afterward, he said that his name was Kumar Maini and that he was a Dane of Indian origin. He praised Folkemodet as an event that “couldn’t happen anywhere else in the world.” But he said the law to remove burqas and niqabs from the few Danish Muslims who wear them in public should be scrapped.

“We shouldn’t try to straighten up everybody else so we end up believing the same, eating the same and doing the same. That would be dead boring,” he said.

At Folkemodet, there’s an unwritten rule: Questions can bite, but the overall atmosphere shouldn’t. The language is far removed from the vitriol permeating social media. So members of the public can challenge any politician who shows up.

“That’s what’s so unique here,” said Hans Helgren, an off-duty police officer who got to question the minister of justice on crime prevention. “Normally, I would never meet him. He’s packed away in Parliament behind so many people.”

The C.E.O. of the scandal-hit Danske Bank found himself in the hot seat when he attended an open-mic event to answer “anything.”

Danske Bank had made headlines recently when a newspaper revealed that the bank had allowed Russian money laundering and then had failed to alert the authorities immediately when senior management discovered the misconduct. (Danes pay some of the world’s highest taxes to sustain their welfare state and have little tolerance for tax evasion and disrespect for rules.)

A client of the bank, Lars Prahm, raised his hand to politely but insistently ask Thomas F. Borgen, the bank’s C.E.O., about the money laundering. “It’s difficult to understand why it took so long for you to react. Can you explain that?” asked Mr. Prahm.

Mr. Borgen admitted that the bank should have done more: “We took a year and a half. We should have been faster.”

But the crowd wasn’t done, peppering him with more queries: Did you learn any humility from the financial crisis? Why didn’t the bank follow its own ethics guidelines? Are you the right man for the job?

The most popular topics this year were health, democracy and youth, according to a survey by Radius, the communications firm behind the yearly poll of Folkemodet topics. But immigration — the one issue that for more than 20 years has decided elections and profoundly changed Denmark’s international image — didn’t even make the Top 20.

“That doesn’t match how the political debate normally is,” said Asbjorn Haugstrup, chief executive of Radius. “My thesis is that Bornholm is a feel-good event. We drink draft beer with people we disagree with,” he said. “The debate about foreigners is too harsh. It doesn’t fit here.”

But over a meal of red curry, a Danish structural engineer said he was very curious about Islam. The engineer, sitting at a large table with food from a street wagon run by a Michelin-star restaurant from Copenhagen, said he discussed Islam “a lot” with a colleague from Afghanistan. At Folkemodet, he had taken the opportunity to learn more from Muslims dressed in T-shirts that said, “Ask a Muslim.”

In a survey of last year’s Folkemodet, 82 percent of the participants said they had gained new knowledge on political issues; 62 percent said that the festival had inspired them to become more active in politics.

Amid Denmark’s homogeneity, the festival provided a safe space to hash out differences. In one tent, 40 people listened to a judge, a lawyer and an IBM representative explore the pros and cons of having robots support or even supplement judges in the courtroom.

In another, about 100 people followed an emotional and sometimes good-humored debate on a potential age limit on male circumcision. The participants were a rabbi, a Muslim member of Parliament and a former porn star.

Lillan Kempf, a doctor who had traveled seven hours to get here, said that at Folkemodet she got a chance to share deep concerns about her hospital’s psychiatric ward with a member of Parliament. Money’s being wasted, she says.

“He agreed with what I said — that was great,” she said. “It’s so important that they hear what’s moving among the people.”

Her husband, Richard Kristensen, called Folkemodet “a fun fair” of “something you hate and something you love:” lots of talking about politics plus live music, comedy and plenty of cute towns and artisan workshops to get away from all the talking.

“People wouldn’t come if it was only about politics,” he declared.

The post Where Danes Butt Heads (Politely) With Their Leaders appeared first on World The News.

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#World News #Today News #Daily News #Breaking News #News Headline #Entertainment News #Sports news #Sci-Tech